


Bumbleby Week 2019

by pugoata



Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, Bumbleby - Freeform, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Smut, a mix of canon compliant and aus, all these one-shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-06-28 18:37:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19818178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pugoata/pseuds/pugoata
Summary: Bumbleby Week 2019 - A collection of one-shots.





	1. Given

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my responses to the prompts for Bumbleby Week 2019! I'm gonna try and write a little thing for all of them. Some will be canon compliant. Others will dip into old AUs. There'll be at least one new AU, a preview of the fic I'm writing after [Anchor](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18726889/chapters/44418982). Just note, all of these will have been minimally edited. I've tried catching awkward flow and typos, but these are mostly just low-pressure and I haven't been too worried about it.
> 
> There may be smut eventually, but I'll warn y'all ahead of time if there is any.
> 
> Day 8 is a bonus day. If you have any prompts for that day, please send it to me on [tumblr](https://pugoata.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/pugoata).
> 
> The list of this week's prompts can be found [here](https://bmblbweek.tumblr.com/), though at the beginning of each chapter, I'll remind you what it is. Good luck to everyone else writing/drawing for this week. May the odds be ever in your favor!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 1 - The Atlas Ball

“Knock knock!”

Blake smiled, turning away from the vanity where she sat to watch Yang slip into the bedroom. She hadn’t changed for the ball yet; she was still wrapped in a white robe, hair tumbling around her shoulders in golden curls. The dress would come last, Blake supposed. She hadn’t seen it yet, but Yang had hinted that it would knock her socks off.

“You really shouldn’t barge in on a lady while she’s changing,” Blake remarked dryly, lips twisting into a smirk as Yang leaned in for a kiss. “It’s scandalous.”

“Please.” Yang rolled her eyes. “We _share_ this room.”

Which was true, but the point still stood. Blake folded her arms, trying to look stern and failing. Her face cracked into a smile. “I thought you were getting dressed.”

“Ruby’s dressed. I don’t think her heels are gonna survive the night.” Yang made a face. “She’s never liked heels. I wanted to check in with you first, though, before we head over.”

Blake’s eyes flickered over to her wardrobe, where her dress still hung. As much as she would have liked Yang to help her zip it up, she liked the idea of surprise even more. They would both arrive at the ball separately, where they would probably both become starry-eyed at seeing each other in one of the beautiful gowns that Weiss and Winter had wrangled for them. Blake had been amazed that the Schnees had gotten so many gowns (and suits for the men) on such short notice, let alone the luxurious silky thing that had probably been meant to garb the upper echelons of Atlas gentry.

Instead, it had been whisked away for a _Faunus_ to sneak into the ball.

Blake turned back to the mirror, opening up her set of lockpicks. It was simple, really, to disguise them in her bun. Though security at Schnee Manor would be tight, nobody would be frisking her, especially her elegantly styled bun.

“So what did you want to check in on?” Blake asked, a look of concentration passing over her face as she slid one of the picks into her bun. In the mirror, she could see Yang bite her lip.

“About… the mission.” Yang set her metal arm on the vanity, drumming it to let out what had to have been nervous energy. “Tonight.”

Blake cocked her head, turning in order to actually meet Yang’s eyes. A ball couldn’t just be a ball, not for them. The real reason for going was to give Blake an opportunity to sneak into Jacques Schnee’s office. The Faunus underground of Atlas knew of particular files that Jacques kept on hand, and downloading them could help shed light on the mistreatment of the dust miners. With Weiss’s connections, it was easy enough to get invitations to the ball. Ears hidden, Blake could sneak into the ball and slip away to the office, and find exactly what the Faunus needed.

“I was… I know it probably sounds stupid.” Yang forced a laugh, though Blake detected an undercurrent of anxiety. “But… could I come with you? After last time… I just want to be there. In case you need help.”

Now Blake understood, and her gaze softened. Not a day went by that Blake didn’t think of what had happened on that cold day in Argus, and she knew that Yang couldn’t forget, either. It had been a couple months ago, but every mission since then had always included other people. This would have been Blake’s first solo mission. Yang had seemed uncomfortable with that idea from the very beginning; she was still haunted by not being there for Blake when Adam had appeared.

 _It could have been so much worse_ , Yang had admitted hours after they’d left Argus behind them. _If I hadn’t gotten there in time…_

Blake had put a stop to that, of course. They didn’t have the luxury to sit around and ponder past possibilities. The nightmares that had come for them had been bad enough. 

She considered. More people on this mission meant a higher risk of being found out. At the same time… she trusted Yang. She knew her partner was careful. And an extra pair of eyes couldn’t hurt.

“It’s probably risky,” Blake told her, reaching out to cup Yang’s cheek in her palm. It was so warm, flush with probable embarrassment and the natural heat of Yang’s body. It had been so comfortable to snuggle with on cold Atlesian nights, and now it warmed her fingers. “You know I’m better at sneakiness.”

Yang opened her mouth to protest, but Blake dragged her finger down her jaw, holding it against Yang’s lips to silence her.

“But maybe it’s a good idea. I… think I’d feel better, having you around.”

Yang’s smile was quick to spread, alight with excitement and relief. “Really?”

“As long as you behave,” Blake warned, but the twitch at the corners of her mouth betrayed her smile. Yang laughed.

“We always behave.”

Which was probably a lie. Now that they had moved across the line of _friendship_ into the dangerous waters of _romance_ , they’d gotten into trouble with their teammates on more than one occasion, with poorly-disguised hickies and the times they’d nearly been caught in various stages of undress. Ruby had threatened to gouge her eyes out on more than one occasion, and Weiss had tried (and failed) to instill a No PDA rule.

“Whatever you say, babe.” Blake turned back to the mirror, plucking another lockpick from its case and carefully tucking it into her bun.

Yang watched silently, more relaxed now that she’d been given permission to tag along. The gold tint in her eyeshadow twinkled in the light, though not as much as the amusement in her lavender eyes. She slid her hand along Blake’s back, running over the soft fabric of her robe, and Blake tried to forget the fact that there was nothing but lingerie underneath. Lace, something Yang would get to enjoy later that night.

But not yet. All Blake could do now was enjoy the touch and think of that tantalizing _later_.

Picks in place, she reached regretfully for the ribbon. It was only temporary, she reminded herself as she tucked it around her ears, tying it into the bow she had made so many times during her days at Beacon. Since her relationship with Yang began, they had found other, much more fun, uses for these ribbons, but this was not one of them. Her bow was a necessity again, just for one night.

“Is it uncomfortable?” Yang asked, her voice breaking the silence that had fallen around them. Blake shrugged.

“I’m used to it, I guess.”

“Maybe later, you can show me how your dress would look without the bow.” Yang’s smile was soft, and Blake’s stomach flopped pleasantly. This was the smile she so loved.

“Maybe.”

\--

At least they could enjoy the ball for a little bit. For an hour, at least, Blake could pretend to be a regular partygoer, draped on the arm of the beautiful woman she loved, twirling across the ballroom in her princess dress. The ball itself was merely a charade, but it was always fun to play pretend.

And at least she didn’t have to play pretend when it came to the part about dancing with the woman she loved.

Yang stepped out of her car, an absolute vision in orange and gold. The skirt was light, bouncy material, maybe tulle, that rounded over her curves before descending down her legs. Blake could see that she had caught the eye of more than one person in the crowd; there were a couple men that were outright _leering_ at her, staring at the gold beadwork on her bodice or the cleavage Yang hadn’t shied away from baring. Blake narrowed her eyes at them, but Yang didn’t even seem to have noticed them as she approached her. 

“Holy shit,” Yang murmured when she’d gotten close enough. She wasn’t shy about letting her gaze linger on Blake’s curves, on the silky fabric that clung to all the right places. “Blake, you’re--”

“ _Beautiful!_ ” Ruby screeched, hopping out of the car after Yang. She darted up to Blake, wrapping her in a quick hug. “Oh my _God_ , that looks _amazing_ on you!”

Yang’s smile was closer to a smirk as Blake blushed. She tugged her chiffon scarf tighter around her arms. The strapless dress made her feel so exposed, and this scarf was protection. Still, as Yang’s eyes lingered on her collarbone, Blake relaxed. She could see hunger plain on Yang’s face, and Blake realized that she could show off a little. For Yang, at least.

“You look pretty good yourself, Ruby. How’re those heels?”

Ruby made an ugly face, lifting a leg to stick out in front of her. The heels weren’t even that dramatically high, but Ruby groaned loud enough for passersby to look over curiously.

“I _hate_ them.”

“You’ll get used to it.” The three of them looked up. Weiss’s face was set grimly, though it was no secret as to why. She’d been dreading the return to her father’s estate since before they’d even left Mistral. Even though it was only for a night, Weiss was still displeased.

Yet even displeasure couldn’t take away from Weiss’s beauty. Her long gown was a soft blue, accented with silver trim and a dramatic, plunging neckline. Yang’s eyes widened in surprise, and Ruby shrieked with glee.

“ _Weiss_! That’s _gorgeous_!”

The compliment caught Weiss off-guard, and she smiled uncertainly, smoothing her hair around her shoulder. “I… Uh, thank you.”

As Ruby nearly leapt on Weiss in a hug, Blake’s gaze darted back to Yang, who gave her the smallest of winks. Blake blushed.

“Everyone else is already here,” Weiss told them as they walked in together. Ruby had her by one arm, each step clumsy in her uncomfortable footwear. Yang, of course, had wasted no time in taking Blake by the arm. It felt different than their daily hand-holding. There were admiring eyes on them, and for once, Blake could believe that they were the beautiful couple Maria had so often told them they were. “Blake,” Weiss added, lowering her voice. “Nora’s going to pretend to get drunk about an hour from now, so keep an eye on that, okay? She’ll get rowdy enough that it should distract security long enough for you to slip out of the ballroom.”

“Yang’s coming with me,” Blake told her firmly. Weiss opened her mouth, probably to argue, but Blake shook her head. “No. I want her with me. She’ll be my lookout.”

“But--”

“I know. And we’ll be careful. One more person isn’t going to make much of a difference.” Weiss frowned, looking from Blake to Yang, but sighed, nodding.

“Fine. But _only_ because a lookout might be a good idea. Yang, I’ll send you the map.”

“Yes ma’am.” Yang lifted her robotic arm in a salute, and Weiss rolled her eyes.

“Anyway. Send me a text when you’re ready to come back in. I’ll distract the guards for that time.”

“And you’re a _Schnee_ ,” Ruby added mischievously. “The guards’ll bend over backwards for you.”

“That’s what I’m counting on.” In the ballroom, Weiss halted, spinning Ruby around to face her. “Wait. Your skirt’s bunching up.”

Yang and Blake stopped to watch Ruby sway on her feet as Weiss straightened her skirt out. It was long, red, and probably more sultry-looking than Ruby had any interest in looking, but Yang’s smile was fond. Her little sister was growing up. Even since Beacon, Ruby had grown taller, becoming more woman than girl. The dress gave her a new kind of maturity.

“There. All better.”

“My hero!” Ruby smiled brightly, though Weiss only rolled her eyes.

“Dork.”

The dance floor was crowded, and Blake wasn’t surprised to hear the sounds of an actual string quartet playing. People that came to Schnee Manor for a _ball_ didn’t come to hear whatever was topping the billboards. She surveyed the crowd, catching sight of Nora at bar, presumably already at work to make good on her diversion.

“Well… could I have this dance?” Yang asked, winking and extending a hand toward Blake. With an amused eyeroll, she took it.

“I would hope so.”

Memory trickled in from the dance at Beacon. She had shared one dance with Yang then, and looking back, it had been too brief. There had been so many missed opportunities there, her own priorities in so many different places. Even then, Yang had been so caring toward her, so warm, so gentle.

She wouldn’t have been at the dance at all if it hadn’t been for Yang.

As if reading her thoughts, Yang smiled and leaned in as their feet stepped in time. “Remember the dance at Beacon?”

“How could I forget it?” Blake returned the smile. “You practically dragged me there.”

This made Yang chuckle, sliding in closer, close enough for Blake to feel the heat of her body. “You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy yourself.”

“You know I did.” Blake could feel goosebumps chase down her body as Yang’s lips brushed her neck. “We should’ve had more than one dance then, too.”

“We’ll make up for it now.” Against her ear, Yang’s voice was low, husky. Blake took a deep inhale, willing her body to slow down. The night had only just started. “You were beautiful then, too. Did I ever tell you that?”

“I think you did, actually.” It had been a much more tame response than what Yang had given her tonight, but she could still remember the way her eyes had lit up when they’d found each other on the dance floor. _Wow! Look at you! You’re so beautiful!_ And oh, how Blake had blushed.

“Good.” Yang’s arms slid around her waist as the music transitioned to something slower. “Because you were.”

“So were you,” Blake murmured back. “And you’re even more so now.”

This earned a ringing laugh from Yang, who, before Blake could protest, lifted her up and spun her around in a quick circle. When Yang set her down, they didn’t move from where they stopped. They swayed, back and forth, eyes lingering on each other’s.

And then they were kissing, sweetly, letting the crowd swirl around them.

An hour later, they had maneuvered themselves away from the dance floor, keeping their ears trained for Nora. Yang had grabbed a champagne for each of them, though it was more to keep up appearances than for enjoyment.

“Not much longer now,” Yang said, tapping her finger against the flute. Blake nodded, and took a sip. The anticipation was the worst part, she figured. She was grateful for Yang’s champagne-flavored kiss. And then she heard a whine.

Blake set her champagne down on the table, watching the guards as they cut their way across the dance floor. Though one of them had a hand on the butt of his baton, both of them look more exasperated than alarmed as they made their way toward Nora.

“That’s our cue,” Yang murmured.

Time to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger, right? This is actually a lead in to another one-shot I did, [ Taken](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19156942), which I wrote for 6/9. Now that one is smutty, so if that's not your thing, I'd recommend not reading it, haha.
> 
> See you tomorrow!


	2. Dad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day - Meeting the Parents

The humidity would dry up the further west they got. Landing in Vale, however, the summer was hot and the moisture in the air bogged them down. Yang had already ditched her bomber jacket on the airship; even in Atlas, she’d started wearing it less and less. Hot days weren’t _completely_ unheard of in Solitas, she’d come to find out. She sighed and pressed her water bottle against her throat, grateful for its coolness.

“It’s hot,” Blake agreed, sidling up to her. She tucked her hair behind her hair, a habit that had popped up with its new length. Yang grinned at her.

“I am.”

Blake tilted her head, wry amusement twisting her smile. “I can’t tell if you’re being suggestive on purpose or not.”

“Yes.”

Blake’s laughter rang out, the sound a tickle to Yang’s ears. In spite of all the challenges that Atlas had presented, the heavy burden that Blake had carried had visibly lightened. That ever-present shadow of a madman no longer weighed her down. Laughter came more easily, smiles were wider.

They were closer than ever before, and Yang soaked up every minute of it. She slid an arm around Blake’s waist, giving her a quick peck on the lips as she did so.

“Did the pilot say how long we’ll be here?” she asked. Blake’s body brought additional warmth to the hot day, but when it was Blake, Yang didn’t mind so much. Blake shrugged.

“Maybe a couple hours. Just long enough to refuel and pick up the huntsmen.”

Their last week in Atlas had ended with a call to arms. Vacuo needed them, as well as all the huntsmen and huntresses who were able to come along. While the bulk of the Atlas military was making a straight shot for Shade Academy, Team RWBY had opted to take the more roundabout route, helping to recruit every able-bodied huntsman or student along the way. Not that they needed to beg; so many of them had rallied to Vale at the first notice, quickly filling up the airships.

It was heartening, that after so many setbacks, people were finally cooperating with them.

While Ruby and Weiss had run off to get a view of Beacon, Blake and Yang had opted to remain behind. It would have been interesting to see Ruby’s stone wyvern, but the Beacon that loomed over the shambles of Vale wasn’t the Beacon that had brought them together. The school was still a ruin, and looking at it would have reawakened too many memories that Yang would rather remain buried.

Instead, they stayed at the airship’s landing site. Atlesian military personnel were doing the quick intakes of licensed huntsmen, more for their own records than an actual vetting process. With what was going on in Vacuo, they couldn’t afford to be picky. Yang had looked through the crowd at first, hoping to catch the eye of any old teachers or classmates she might have recognized. There was Oobleck, and Port, both eager and ready to come along. Goodwitch, however, felt bound to her school, empty as it was, and chose to remain in Vale. But for the most part, the faces in the line were unknown to her. Most of these huntsmen and huntresses were strangers.

It was probably for the best. She wasn’t sure how many of them would make it out alive. She couldn’t even be certain that her own team would make it through. She bit her lip.

“Come back to me, Yang,” Blake murmured, sensing she was no longer mentally with her. Yang snapped to attention, looking at Blake with wide eyes. “I can tell you’re worrying again.”

“Oh.” Yang shrugged it off, not wanting her own fears to drag them down. She had to live in the _moment_ , she reminded herself. She couldn’t afford to fear for an unknown future. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” Blake found her hand, squeezed it. “We’ll get through this.”

Yang nodded, and for a moment, they watched in silence as the queue steadily moved. The professional huntsmen, the ones who had been at it for years, were easy to pick out. Their packs were small and light, weapons within easy reach. The newer ones and the out-of-practice ones had more luggage than was probably wise. More than once, someone would protest as they were told to leave luggage behind. There was limited space on the airships, and there was a strict limit as to how much baggage someone could bring.

“But _they_ only brought one bag. Surely that means I can have just one extra one!” someone complained. Yang rolled her eyes.

“If I’m ever like that, shoot me,” she told Blake in a low voice. Blake snorted.

“Yang? Is that you?!”

She nearly jumped at the recognition of that voice. She whirled, staring as a tall blonde man approached. His blue eyes were wide in disbelief, mirroring her own. “Dad?!”

Blake let her go, backing off as Yang and Taiyang embraced. It was so surprising, but it shouldn’t have been, not really. Taiyang Xiao Long was a huntsman in his own right, a teacher, and someone who would always leap headfirst into a fight.

Of course he would sign himself up to go to Vacuo.

“I’m surprised to see you back in Vale,” he remarked. “The last I heard from Qrow, you were trying to get to Atlas.”

“And we made it. We’re just laying over here for a bit to pick up some more huntsmen.” Yang jutted her head to the line. “Ruby’s here, too, but she and Weiss ran off to try and see the school.”

“I see.” Only now did Taiyang’s gaze flicker to Blake, and Yang was dismayed to see the way it hardened. “So this must be…”

“Blake.” Defensively, Yang lifted a beckoning arm to Blake. After a moment’s brief hesitation, she approached, allowing Yang to hold her close. “My girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend,” Taiyang repeated, almost as if the word was foreign to him. Still, he didn’t let whatever his own impression of her overrule his courtesy. He extended a hand. “Taiyang Xiao Long.”

“It’s… nice to meet you,” Blake replied, a slight shake to her voice as she gripped his hand. His manner wasn’t lost on her, either. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Yang looked from Blake to her father, trying to figure out the unevenness of the interaction. Taiyang was friendly to a fault, and the fact that he could be so _cold_ toward someone made absolutely no sense. She frowned at him. There were pieces that weren’t fitting together, and it made her uneasy.

“So have I,” he replied to Blake, and _there_ it was. His demeanor suddenly made sense. Yang’s gaze softened.

“Dad… Things are cool now,” she told him, grip tightening on Blake’s waist. “We met back up in Mistral, and we… figured things out.”

Taiyang raised one eyebrow, the hairs oddly pale against his tanned skin. “Figured things out?” he asked, voice suspiciously light. Yang sighed.

After the Fall of Beacon, she had returned to Patch a wreck, only a shell of the girl she’d been. It hadn’t just been her missing arm, though losing it had presented its own challenges. Her biggest wound had been one that couldn’t be replaced by fancy Atlesian technology. Her last memory of Blake had been seeing her sprawled on the floor, a man in a mask standing over her with a sword in hand. When she had woken up, it wasn’t just her arm that was missing.

Blake was gone, too.

Yang had supposed Ruby had filled him in on the murky details of that last night in Vale, probably putting words to the hurt, grief, and the rage that vied for dominance in Yang’s heart. She’d never spoken Blake’s name to her father, nor the intensity of their bond, nor the constant ache she’d felt since that bond had snapped. But Ruby had told him enough to make the connection, and as a man who’d been broken by love before, he could understand.

So, too, could she understand his wariness now that Blake was with her again.

“Dad,” she said, determined to right this before it had a chance to warp further. “So much has happened since I left. Both of us… me and Blake… we’ve made mistakes. But we’re moving past them.”

Blake turned to her quizzically, and Yang flashed her a reassuring smile. Still, Taiyang didn’t seem convinced. He looked from Yang, to Blake, and then back to his daughter. He sighed. “Sure thing, kiddo. But listen, I need to get in line. We can talk more on the airship.”

“Right,” Yang replied, heart sinking. What he gave her then couldn’t exactly be called a _hug_ \-- it was closer to a headlock, full of the warmth that he hadn’t spared for Blake-- and then he was darting off, duffel bag in hand. Yang frowned after him, watching him go as he joined the line and clapped another huntsman on the shoulder. 

“What was _that_ about?” Blake finally asked. This was what finally broke Yang’s reverie, and she turned back to her partner, guilty. 

“I think Dad might be a little… jaded.”

“You don’t say,” Blake commented dryly. Yang laughed, the sound unexpected, but she was grateful that Blake had managed to pull it out of her. It cleared her head a little. “About what?”

“Well…” She paused, trying to figure out exactly how to put it into words that wouldn’t make Blake spiral into guilt. Blake tilted her head, which always looked so _cute_ with her haircut that it almost distracted Yang from her thoughts. Almost. “I guess… Most of what he knows about you is what he found out after everything at Beacon… happened.” Were there _any_ words on this subject that wouldn’t hurt her? She bit her lip, and forced herself to go on. It was better to be honest. “And… I was kinda… not doing so hot. Not just the arm, but when you…”

Her courage faltered, but Blake’s golden eyes widened. She didn’t have to finish.

“Oh,” Blake said, cheeks blooming with color at her past shame. She looked down.

“Hey.” Yang stepped closer to her, resting her metal fingers on Blake’s forearm. “We’re fine. We’re _more_ than fine, okay?” She smiled at Blake, soft and encouraging and full of the love that was the undeniable current of their relationship. “Dad’ll come around. He’s not a bad guy. He’s just… maybe a little protective, I guess. But he’ll come around. Don’t waste your time worrying about him.”

“I don’t know,” Blake replied uncertainly, still looking off after Taiyang. “I never really imagined what it would be like to meet him, but this _definitely_ isn’t what I would’ve expected.” Her ears flattened sadly as she went on. “Maybe I should have, though.”

“Don’t even think that,” Yang said firmly, dragging her fingers down to Blake’s wrist. She caught it, and held loosely. “What’s done is done. We got through it, and now things are even better than before. It’s _okay_.”

She saw Blake’s gulp before she nodded. For further reassurance, she pressed a light kiss against Blake’s mouth, The important things were clear between them. They didn’t need guilt sullying their path again. So Yang was heartened when Blake returned the kiss, slightly harder than Yang’s own.

Between them, things were still okay. That was all that mattered.

Not that it prevented awkwardness later on, however, when they ran into Taiyang again on the airship. At seeing Yang, his smile was bright. Blake, he outright ignored.

“Ruby brought me up to speed,” he told Yang warmly. “And I’m telling you the same thing I told her: you need to remember to _think_ before you jump in and do whatever this new incarnation of Ozpin tells you to do. He--”

“I know,” Yang interrupted. “We’ve figured that out already.”

“You’ve always been smart girls,” he replied with a sigh. “I suppose you already know, too, that you need to be careful.”

“Well, we’re as careful as we’ve always been… which probably isn’t saying much.” Her grin was full of humor, but it seemed to be the wrong thing to say to Taiyang, who scowled.

“And _that’s_ what I’m afraid of.”

It wasn’t like Yang didn’t _try_ to bring Blake into the conversation, but each time, Taiyang would find a way to interrupt, or, at worst, not even respond when she _did_ manage to slip a comment in. It frustrated Yang, and she could see Blake’s resolve begin to crumble before her eyes. This wouldn’t do, Yang thought. Something had to give.

“Dad,” she finally said, voice wearing thin. “Enough.”

“Huh?” He had settled onto the seat across from them, and Yang leaned forward, placing her elbows on her knees to look him straight-on. Even Blake looked startled; her ears pricked up at Yang’s tone.

“You’ve been ignoring Blake. For a while now.”

Taiyang blinked, caught off-guard. Maybe he hadn’t expected to be called out, or maybe his treatment of Blake had been completely unconscious. Now, though, his eyes darted back over to her.

“I haven’t been--” he began, his protest weak, but Yang cut him off. She had no time for that.

“Dad,” she said again. “I know things were… rough, after… after I came back to Patch.” She took a deep breath, steadying herself. It still hurt, to think about those long, lonely months. Things could have been so different, she knew, but what was done was done. As she’d told Blake, things were okay now. Things had been fixed, hearts had been repaired. “But… it wasn’t Blake’s fault. She had… some things of her own to deal with. And we went through hell to deal with them. Together.”

She felt light pressure on her knee. Yang didn’t need to look to know it was Blake’s hand, a calm touch that spurred her on.

“So if you’re, like… holding it over her head, or something… don’t. I told you before: we’ve figured this out.” Yang held her stare, gratified when he broke it first. She let the look soften. “Dad… I trust her. Can you trust me in this?”

His astonishment almost hurt. Yang was grateful for Blake’s firm hand. It held her steady in the wake of her father’s reaction, his wide eyes and the soundless opening and closing of his mouth. She tried to imagine it from his perspective; when she’d left Patch, she’d still been so emotionally fragile. Of course he would have trouble reconciling that version of her with the woman who sat in front of him today.

“Yang,” he finally said, sounding, for once, like the aging man he was. He opened his mouth, reconsidered, and grimaced. “I suppose… I haven’t been fair,” he conceded at last, turning back to Blake. He attempted a smile, which looked even worse than the grimace.

“You haven’t,” Yang replied, voice flat.

“Mr. Xiao Long?” Blake’s words were hesitant, as if uncertain he would actually listen to her this time. To Yang’s relief, he met her in the eye as she spoke. “When I… ran away. After Beacon. It was… a mistake. I thought I… I thought I was protecting her, by doing that. The man, the one that cut off her…” Even now, months after they’d sent Adam to his grave, Blake still struggled to say the words. “The man that cut off her arm. He promised to destroy everything I loved, and I knew he wouldn’t stop till he’d finished the job. So I left and thought it would be the end of it.”

Blake inhaled, the sound ragged. “I messed up,” she added, voice softer. “And I _wish_ I could go back and change that. Neither of us deserved that, least of all Yang.”

“And now it’s _done_ ,” Yang finished, steel in her voice. She slid a hand onto the small of Blake’s back, registering the dampness of sweat against her palm. “We’ve paid our price, it’s over, and we’re _good_.”

Taiyang frowned. A change had come over his face while Blake spoke, and while Yang’s words alone hadn’t seemed to hit home, Blake’s had. His brows furrowed, concern crossing over his face.

“It’s done?” he repeated, looking from Blake to Yang. “What’s done?”

At this, Blake looked away.

“We killed him.” Yang wouldn’t run away from that statement. She could own it, and she knew Blake could, as well, though perhaps not to the complete stranger that was Taiyang. “Blake… was right. He followed us, and he would have killed her. He would have killed _us_.”

She felt Blake shift against her, moving slightly closer on the bench. Yang let her hand drift to her waist, not out of protection, but in solidarity. 

“I appreciate the sentiment, Dad, but I don’t need it.” Yang forced a smile. “I’m not asking you to adopt her, or anything. But, at least… give her a chance? That’s literally all we’re asking.”

Taiyang leaned back, letting out a long breath of air. It was… a lot of information, dumped all at once, but he was sensible. If he had thought Yang was trusting blindly, of course he would have had something to say about it. But she wasn’t, so he wouldn’t. He nodded, the movement miniscule, but as his confidence grew, the nod became more decisive. He leaned forward.

“Thank you,” he told Blake quietly. “For telling me this.” He paused. “I’m… sorry for being rude.”

Blake’s ears sagged in relief. “It’s… okay, Mr. Xiao Long. I get it.”

Taiyang smiled weakly, his eyes crinkling with the effort. “Tai, please.”

They spoke for a little while longer, with Yang telling him about her visit to the Branwen tribe and filling in any gaps Ruby had left out. To her surprise, he only nodded when she spoke of Raven. He’d already heard.

“She visited me, y’know,” he told them, stretching out against the wall. “She had some pretty interesting things to say.”

“Really?” Yang’s eyes widened. Blake must have felt her twitch, for she ran a soothing hand up her back. “What’d she say?”

“What you told me, for one,” he replied, one eyebrow raised. “But the rest… I should probably tell you guys tonight, when we’re all together. Oz will want to hear it.”

Yang groaned. “Figures,” she muttered, and she heard the huff of Blake’s laughter.

“Speaking of, I’ve wanted to see how Oz looks these days,” Taiyang remarked, smiling slightly. He stood up and shrugged, rolling his shoulders. “But I’ll see you all in a little bit. It was wonderful to meet you, Blake.”

“You too,” Blake replied with a nod up at him. 

“See you soon.” Yang nodded at her father as he strode away, maneuvering through the sweaty crowd of people on the airship. She sighed, and flopped her head onto Blake’s shoulder, hair slipping into her eyes. “Well, that was stressful.”

“Parents, right?” Blake asked, amused. She kissed the top of Yang’s head.

“Y’know, you… didn’t have to tell him all of that, if you didn’t want to,” Yang told her, lifting her head back up to meet Blake’s eyes. They stared levelly back at her, the gold looking only brighter in the dim glow of the airship. 

“I’m not ashamed of what we had to do,” she replied quietly. She leaned her head in, forehead resting against Yang’s. “I’m only ashamed of what _I’ve_ done. And I wanted him to know... that I still live with that. Every day, I still live with knowing that I’ve hurt you. I know there’s nothing we can do about it now… but I wish I hadn’t left you.” Her breath was heavy, choppy, and Yang could feel its edges on her face. “Out of everything I’ve ever done… that’s been my biggest regret.”

“Blake,” Yang murmured, closing the gap with her lips on Blake’s. They were still so smooth, even after living in the chill of Atlas for months. “We’ve all done things we regret. Dad probably knows that better than anyone. But we still keep going on. We’ve picked up what we can, and we’re _okay_.”

“You keep saying that,” Blake said, her laugh fragile, and Yang could hear her tears in the sound.

“Because it’s true.” Yang kissed her again, now _feeling_ Blake’s tears on her cheeks. “I love you. So much.”

“I love _you_ ,” Blake replied, a ghost of a smile curling on her lips.

“See?” Yang said, pulling her in again. “As long as we’ve got _that_ , we’ll be okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually got the idea for this prompt from a post I saw on tumblr, posted by the user [@rwby-party](https://rwby-party.tumblr.com/). They made a [post](https://rwby-party.tumblr.com/post/185669631307/heres-some-bumbleby-angst-i-think-ive-said) about how Tai probably wouldn't just accept Blake right away, knowing that she'd hurt Yang like that. It seemed like an interesting concept, so I decided to roll with it.
> 
> See y'all tomorrow!


	3. Eternity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3 - Proposal/Wedding

_Climate change_ , Blake thought. Earthquakes in Mistral, a tsunami that ravaged the eastern part of Menagerie, a ring of volcanos that had erupted in a chain down the center of Solitas. Those were all distant things, almost unreal to Blake. The only _real_ thing to her was the oppressive heat. Maybe the world would end in fire, she thought darkly, fanning herself with a sheet of paper. 

It was the world’s response to Salem. She had tipped the balance of light and dark, and the world was revolting against it. At least, that’s how Oscar explained it. She couldn’t even see the farmhand in him anymore, and the loss saddened her. He’d been so melded into the minds of Ozma and all of his past lives that there was nothing of his innocence left. There was a deadened look in his eyes as he sat everyone around the table that night, explaining the situation.

“We’re not going to have any choice,” he’d told them, young and solemn and ancient as he looked from one person to the next. “The world is falling apart as it is. The Relics are our last chance to put a stop to this.”

“Do you think humanity is ready?” Yang had asked darkly. Her anxiety was betrayed by her hand, where it trembled slightly where it rested on Blake’s leg. Oscar had looked down at his plate, his hesitancy all the answer they needed. Still, he went on.

“This is a case of _damned if we do, damned if we don’t_ ,” he replied. “If the Gods don’t destroy the world… then Salem will.”

Weiss had retreated into a stoic shell, and she stared down at her untouched dinner plate. Ruby, on the other hand, had widened those silver eyes of hers, undaunted.

“We can’t afford to think like that,” she’d said, her quiet voice ringing. “I _believe_ in humanity. Sure, there’s some bad in the world. There _always_ will be. That’s what makes humanity so interesting, so…” She struggled for a word, couldn’t find one, and shook her head. “If the Gods wanted _balance_ , they should understand that. I’m not giving up hope.”

But Yang had. Blake could see it in the slump of her shoulders, the dullness of her eyes. Blake had taken her by the hand, drawing her finger along the soft flesh between Yang’s thumb and forefinger. She knew Yang had never stopped thinking of the past, where they might have been, where they _should_ have been.

They could have still been students at Beacon Academy, training to fight monsters and work together as a team. Instead, they were contemplating the end of the world.

Neither of them finished their dinner that night. They retreated to their room, cracking a window in the hopes of catching a breeze. But the outside air was stale, and even their fan only pushed it around in a way that didn’t relieve them. It was an older house, with an air conditioning unit that only worked when it felt like it. It may not have been modern, but it was safe from prying eyes. It was a place to lay low with their Relics, keeping them carefully separated and out of sight until they were ready.

As Yang showered, Blake changed into a tank top and shorts before stretching out across the bed. The blankets underneath her were crumpled, but not unmade. They’d been sleeping on top of them for the past few nights, and would do so again tonight.

She never expected to miss the cold of Atlas, but here she was.

The door creaked open and Blake opened a bleary eye, already knowing it was Yang, wrapped in her towel. Cold showers were some of the little relief any of them could get from the heat.

“How was it?” Blake asked, setting down her makeshift fan, and Yang shrugged. She shut the door behind her and combed a hand through her still-damp curls.

“I wish there was a lake or a pond around here to just jump into,” she replied in a low monotone. “It’s too fucking hot.”

“Or a creek. Or an ocean. This heat makes me glad I cut my hair.”

Yang gave her a lopsided smile, pulling her towel off and hanging it on the doorknob. Blake couldn’t blame her when she came to bed, still undressed, and flopped onto her back. Maybe it _was_ too hot for clothes. Her skin was shiny and pink, freshly scrubbed and smelling like oranges. Blake rolled onto her side and pulled herself into the frame of Yang’s body, draping an arm across her abs and sighing into her chest.

“You’re not helping with the heat, y’know,” Yang told her mildly, but didn’t push her off. If she’d been wearing her arm, she might have wrapped it around Blake. Instead, her stump only twitched, as if making the phantom motion of doing exactly that.

They lay in silence for a minute, and Blake closed her eyes with pleasure as Yang’s good hand stroked her hair.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked when the silence had stretched on long enough. Yang sighed.

“I think… I know what being old is like now.”

“Oh?” Blake raised an eyebrow, but her hand wandered along Yang’s side aimlessly. It was a comforting touch, and Yang closed her eyes as she enjoyed it, too.

“Mhm.” She shifted a little, more on her side now than her back, and Blake took advantage of the new expanse of skin by rubbing her back. “I don’t mean, like, just regular old people, either. I mean, like, _dying_ people.”

“That’s pretty morbid.”

Yang laughed a hollow sound. “I guess. But when you don’t have much of a future to look forward to… all you can think about is the past. That’s what people do when they’re dying, right? You think about things you’ve done wrong, the things you’ve done right… What might have been different.”

“Yang.” Hearing her talk like this made Blake’s heart hurt. The hopelessness that had been growing in Yang was terrible to hear when voiced aloud.

“I’ve been thinking, a little. About other lives.” Yang’s eyes opened, and she stared up at the ceiling. “Maybe in another life, in like, a parallel universe or something… maybe we’re still at Beacon.”

“Then we wouldn’t be together,” Blake pointed out, but Yang shook her head.

“I think… I think we would be.” She turned to Blake, smiling sadly. “I think… this was how it was supposed to go. That no matter what happened, we would have met. We would have fallen in love then, just like we did in _this_ life.”

Yang’s fingers in her hair stopped, slipping to cradle Blake’s cheek in her palm. Their eyes locked, and Blake wondered for a moment if the rest of the colors of the world had been washed away by the world’s imbalance. Nothing was as clear, as vibrant, as Yang’s eyes.

“I like to think that we don’t just _end_ here,” Yang murmured. “Even if the world ends… I’d like to think that we keep going on, somehow.”

“We will,” Blake replied, voice thick. “You know we will.”

“Yeah.” Yang leaned in, bringing her mouth against Blake’s in a soft kiss. The heat of their bodies together wasn’t uncomfortable like the heat of the room was. This was a heat Blake could live in forever.

“I’m… I’m going to think-- to _hope_ \-- that we’ll get through this,” she told Yang, pulling her lips away. “The world needs _balance_. And if it’s like what you say-- that we’re always _meant_ to be-- then maybe we’re not _meant_ to end yet. Here. Maybe we go on.”

Yang’s eyes searched hers, like they were looking for answers. What Blake had given her wasn’t one. Maybe there weren’t any answers at all. Her gaze softened, and she nodded.

“Maybe we go on,” she repeated. She pushed herself up onto her elbow and Blake couldn’t stop from trailing her eyes over Yang’s collarbone. Even now, here at the edge of the world, her beauty still caught Blake off-guard. “And if we do…”

“We _will_ ,” Blake said firmly. “We _have_ to.”

Yang smiled again, still somewhat sad, but there was something tucked away in it now. Maybe it wasn’t hope, but it _almost_ was. “I love you so much, Blake. I love you.”

She said it like she’d never get another chance, and Blake swallowed. “Yang…”

“Blake.” Back to business, her voice firmed, and she straightened further. “I’ve been thinking, too. If we _do_ make it--”

“We _will_.”

“Yeah.” Yang licked her lips. “I don’t… I don’t want to live any part of my life without you. If we die tomorrow, or if we live for a hundred years or something… I want you to be with me. I want to be with _you_.”

“And we will be.” Blake’s voice caught. Despite her attempts to stay strong, seeing the way Yang’s eyes glassed over triggered tears of her own. “Always.”

“Then marry me,” Yang said, her voice barely over a whisper.

Blake stared. Through all of Yang’s hopelessness, the grimness that had spread across all of them like a plague, Blake hadn’t expected _this_ to be something that had been on her mind. 

And yet…

“If… If we do get out of this alive…” Yang’s breathing came out in pants, and automatically, Blake pressed the length of her body into hers. “I don’t want a day to go by where I don’t see your smile. Hear you laugh. Hell… even now, if these are all the days we’ve got left… They’ll be full, they’ll be perfect, as long as I’ve got that. As long as I’ve got you.”

Blake ran a hand over her face, wiping away the tears that were now freely flowing. Yang laughed weakly, kissing her wet cheek.

“Every day,” Blake managed to croak out. “Every day, I’ll love you. I’ll love you in this life, in whatever comes next... I’ll love you into eternity, even.”

“Good.” Yang brushed her thumb across Blake’s cheek, flicking away another tear. “Because that’s how long I’ll love you back.”

It was only as their kiss deepened, and Yang tugged her shirt over her head, that Blake had realized she hadn’t actually said _yes_. Her eyes went wide, and she considered breaking off the kiss to correct that. But Yang’s bare skin felt delicious against her own, and then she was wriggling out of her shorts, and nothing could really interrupt _that_.

It was after, when Yang was leaning over her and Blake was drowning in her eyes, that she remembered.

“I’ll marry you,” she finally, finally replied. Yang’s smirk was satisfied. The hopelessness that had been haunting her was nowhere to be seen.

“I figured that was a _yes_ ,” she remarked wickedly.

“Still, I wanted to say it.” Blake rolled her eyes, then closed them as Yang kissed her.

Maybe they only had days, or maybe they had years. Right then, Blake couldn’t really say. But it didn’t matter.

For all her life, short or long, she would be with Yang.


	4. Hangman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 4 - AU Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have underestimated how complicated it would be to write a prompt from the middle of a potential fic. There was a lot I wanted to contextualize, but a lot I just skipped over for the sake of simplicity, but I hope I've gotten the important parts in.
> 
> This is going to be an AU that I hope to write this fall! It's ambitious for me-- there will be politics! There will be racism! There will be angst! There will probably be me, sobbing in a corner and regretting I ever came up with this idea. When I actually write this fic, this part might be completely rewritten, or not changed at all. This is sorta just a rough sketch of what I'm hoping to accomplish.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it! Alexa, play Armed and Ready (Acoustic)! Beehaw! :)

Honor. Duty. Law.

All bullshit. The only word that mattered to Jacques Schnee was _privilege._

Yang crammed her hat on over her hair. She’d let her hair loose for the occasion today, for a bit of dramatic flair. A little drama was never lost on the _privileged_ of Mantle, the rich transplants from Atlas, Argus, and Vale. It would really give them something to talk about. She tightened her belt and double-checked her revolvers, making sure they were loaded. She’d need them today.

The gallows were set and ready, the noose swinging low to easily tighten around Blake’s neck. As sheriff, it was her _duty_ to oversee the execution, even if the law itself had slipped through her fingers yet again. She may be sheriff, but Jacques Schnee was the real authority. This was _his_ town, he’d repeat to her. You work for _me_.

His town. It was true, Mantle would have been nothing more than an inn and a hitching post if it weren’t for Jacques Schnee and the mine he’d built. The town bloomed around it, filling mostly with his indentured Faunus laborers. After he moved permanently to the area, more settlers looked eagerly to Mantle as a place with prospects. The Faunus may have still outnumbered the humans, but it didn’t matter. They were still seen as little better than animals.

That was why it had caused such an uproar when, during a White Fang attack, their red-headed leader had stood and announced that one of the townsfolk, someone who had lived there for months, had been feeding them information about the inner workings of the town. He’d pointed a gloved finger at Blake, renouncing her, outing her as a Faunus as his followers set fire to the town hall.

 _Arrest her,_ Schnee had ordered, stone-faced, as the townsfolk frantically worked to put out the flames. Yang’s eyes had flashed red.

 _Make me,_ she said, her voice low.

It had been no secret that Yang and Blake were lovers. Only a month before, Blake had finally moved in with her. She had known, of course, about Blake’s heritage. She’d known, too, that Blake had severed her connection to the White Fang.

It hadn’t been enough for Jacques Schnee. 

_If you don’t,_ he’d warned, _I’ll have you hung right up there with her._

A thousand thoughts had swum through Yang’s mind. She could get herself arrested, get hung right beside Blake in a lover’s death. Or…

...Yang weighed the noose in her hand, feeling its coarseness around her fingers. She thought idly how it would feel when Blake wore it around her neck.

“Where’s the bitch?” a kid taunted from below the scaffold. Yang looked down at him, almost disinterestedly. “I hear they’re hanging your _bitch_ today.”

 _Bitch_. A common epithet for Faunus women. She’d heard a lot of that word in the few days since Blake had been arrested. It was usually reserved for scandalized whispers, but a spoiled preteen boy wouldn’t know such restraint.

Yang didn’t even glare. Judging by his lack of drawl, he was new to town. It was possible he hadn’t seen her shooting demonstrations yet. Most kids knew better than to try to bait Yang Xiao Long. Even if not all of the townsfolk loved her, she was at least respected. She wasn’t called _the sharpest shooter in the west_ for no reason.

But she wasn’t going to waste a bullet by pulling rank. Not today. She released the noose, letting it swing, swing, swing.

“Execution’s at noon,” she told him shortly. “Unless you wanna join her, I’d get lost till then.”

The boy frowned, puzzled at the lack of reaction. This was no fun. With a scowl in her direction, he turned and slunk away.

It wouldn’t be a long wait. The sun was climbing higher and higher and shadows were shrinking. For any other criminal, it would have been Yang to escort Blake from the jailhouse (or the _kennels_ , they were usually called), but Schnee didn’t seem to trust her with that, considering the circumstances. Instead, he had his deputies do the honors. They were more of Schnee’s pets than true deputies, hired to enforce his own policies than actual law. At first, Yang had tolerated his interference, but as time went on, she became more and more disgusted with his sway over Mantle. As she and Blake had become close, she’d found someone to vent to.

It was so freeing, having someone to bounce ideas off of, to discuss deeper issues with. The uneasy questions that had been in the back of her mind seemed to have clear answers when she had Blake to voice them to.

 _I hate how he runs this fuckin’ town,_ Yang had grumbled one night. Jacques had swooped in and released one of his colleagues from the kennels, when Yang had arrested the drunkard when he’d been too handsy with a Faunus woman. It hadn’t been the first time Schnee had intervened on a friend’s behalf. _He hired me because he told me people listen to gunslingers. But when he comes around and sabotages everything law I try to enforce..._

Blake had rubbed her back sympathetically. In Yang’s company, she could untie the ribbon that bound her ears, and they’d flicked at Yang’s words. _Then make_ him _listen_ , she’d suggested.

 _And who’d support me?_ Yang had asked bitterly. _The Faunus hate me just for working for him._

_I don’t hate you._

_Yeah, well_. Yang had shifted, rolling off her stomach and onto her side in order to face Blake. _You’re a special case._

Blake had laughed, accepting the kiss Yang had given her with an amused grin. 

She’d loved learning from Blake. She was an idealist who dreamed of a better future, and she hadn’t been afraid to work for what was right. She was bold. Courageous. It was a breath of fresh air in this corrupt town. She knew the meaning of _justice_. She had been someone who could make a difference.

Today, Yang was going to fit a noose around her neck.

Yang’s heart clenched as Henry and Luke led Blake up the steps, while Jacques’s personal security team formed a knot at the bottom of the stairs. Her golden eyes were wide and frightened, but they fell on Yang, who met them evenly. She nodded to Blake, as if for all the world that she had been unaffected by this show. As if this wasn’t the woman she loved more than anything else in this town.

The drop would be short, dirty. Yang had overseen several executions, always of Faunus, and had watched their bodies jerk as they slowly strangled. It was cruel, there was no getting around it. Some bigger cities, like Atlas, had invested in taller structures where the condemned would break their neck and die quickly. Hell, even a firing squad was kinder than this, but the wealthy of Mantle were sick. They were ruthless. They loved a good show. _Let them suffer_ , they would say, and watch with a satisfied gleam as the condemned thrashed.

“The murdering _bitch_!” a woman screamed. Blake hadn’t had anything to do with the attack, but the crowd didn’t care about specifics. If there was someone to blame, they’d latch onto it. The fact that they’d been deceived about her race was crime enough for most of the upper-class.

The priest read Blake her rights, which Yang only half-listened to. She’d heard them often enough, and she had other things to focus on. Schnee stood near the gallows, below the scaffold, watching with a wry look of contempt. Closer still was Weiss, looking tense, blue eyes darting from Blake to the ground. Always calculating.

The deputies directed Blake over the trapdoor. At the pull of a lever, it would open and Blake would fall through to be suspended by the neck.

Yang stepped closer.

“I need to put this over your eyes,” she told Blake softly, holding up a sack.

“Lights out, kitty-cat!” some smartass in the crowd taunted. Yang ignored him. Blake nodded, clearly trying to keep her breath under control. She was shaking, and Yang wished she could ignore the crowd and gather her up in her arms right then.

But she had a job to do.

She slipped the sack over Blake’s head, then fitted the noose around her neck. She tightened it, though did so as gently as she could. It was bound to scratch, to bruise. They didn’t waste silky ropes on the condemned here in Mantle. Nooses only needed to be functional.

She stepped away, and gave the priest a nod.

“May the Gods have mercy on your soul,” the man wheezed.

Yang pulled the lever.

She couldn’t afford to stare at Blake’s body as she fell through, but she saw the way the rope jerked, the way her legs kicked out automatically. If she watched, she would shake, and she couldn’t shake now. She only had seconds and she needed steadiness.

Wordlessly, she pulled out both guns. In her periphery, Henry and Luke leaped back, shocked, as Yang aimed one revolver at the rope. She fired once, then twice. 

Yang Xiao Long could hit an apple from a mile away, children often whispered to each other. 

Yang Xiao Long was the best shooter in all of Remnant, people would claim drunkenly in saloons, raising their mugs in a toast to her skills.

Yang Xiao Long never missed.

Perhaps some of it was exaggeration. Perhaps some of it was truth.

But she could hit a fucking rope.

The two shots hit on the same spot, ripping through the thick material. Blake dropped to the ground.

Weiss was ready. She flew to Blake, pulling the sack off, cutting her free of the ropes while Yang flipped a switch on her revolvers, and fired both of them behind her. Explosive Dust propelled her forward, launching her off the scaffold. She hit the ground in a crouch, blonde hair bouncing behind her on impact. Behind her, she could hear Blake’s sputtering coughs, but couldn’t turn to her. Not yet.

“What is the _meaning_ of this?!” Schnee roared, stepping forward. The crowd began to churn in agitation, excitement, but they silenced as Yang spun her revolvers around dangerously before aiming them at Schnee.

“Don’t,” she warned. She took another step forward, and the people nearest to her stepped back. “It ends here, Jacques.”

“Are-- are you out of your _mind_?!” he asked, voice climbing shrilly. “What have you done? Henry, Luke, seize--”

“No.” Yang raised her revolvers just a bit higher, a threat. Jacques closed his mouth and gripped his cane tighter, moustache quivering. She risked a glance behind her, saw Weiss angle herself between Blake and the crowd. Blake had been expecting what had happened, though so much could have gone wrong. Now that she was off the scaffold, away from her escorts, things were a little more in Yang’s control. Blake would be easier to whisk away from down below. “I’m doing what I should’ve done long ago.”

Yang scanned the crowd, making eye contact with a few of her allies. There were some Faunus miners who were on her side, as well as a few sympathetic humans. They’d be the key in this shift Yang was orchestrating. They would plant the seeds of change.

“This ain’t a town,” Yang told the crowd. Too many people were talking over her, and her eyes flashed red. She raised one revolver and fired into the air.

Silence.

“That’s better,” Yang remarked, lowering the gun, but still keeping it in hand. “Are we gonna listen now?”

Silence again. Maybe Jacques had been onto something when he’d told her that people listened to gunslingers.

“I’ve been your sheriff for over a year now,” Yang told the crowd, keeping her voice light and easy. After all, she’d been friendly with most of them. They knew her, and trusted her, and she needed to remind them of that. “I’ve gotten to know y’all pretty well during this time. I’ve been to your birthday parties, I’ve bought you drinks. Whenever there’s a problem, _y’always_ come to me. Well, now I’m comin’ to you.”

She wanted to look behind her again, to see if Weiss was sneaking Blake away, but didn’t dare. 

“This ain’t a town,” Yang repeated. “This is a kingdom.” She jutted her chin in Schnee’s direction. “Jacques here’s appointed himself king, and we’re all nothing more than his subjects. So I’m here to remind you that he doesn’t own this town. _You_ do.”

She spun her guns on her fingers, making it look lazy, effortless.

“There’s trouble brewin’,” she told them. A breeze caught her hair, and Yang could only hope it had the dramatic effect she was hoping for. She needed to use all her tools at her disposal if she was going to win the crowd over. “What happened the other day is only gonna get worse. And ya know why?” She gestured behind her, to the gallows. “ _This_. Y’all were about to hang her without a _trial_. I’ve _watched_ Faunus get hung for the same things Jacques Schnee will let his friends get away with.” She cast him a look, and his mouth opened and closed like a dying fish. “I’ve seen the hangings. The whippings. I nearly up and left this town when I saw a young man walkin’ around with a brand on his cheek.”

The crowd shifted uncomfortably. While most of the townsfolk didn’t like the idea of the occasional brand that would crop up on the face of a runaway, it was something they’d turned a blind eye to for the sake of keeping the peace, for the sake of not angering Schnee.

Not anymore.

“I’m sorry to say I’ve failed y’all as sheriff,” Yang went on. “A real sheriff would never have let that man try to own this town. I was a fool. I thought since he brought me here, that since he paid me, that I answered to him. Well, no more. Now, I answer to you, and I mean _all_ of you. Human and Faunus.

“The White Fang attacked us because of behavior like this.” She spat in the direction of the taunting gibbet, eyes never leaving the crowd. “The only way we’re _ever_ gonna have peace here is if we work together. If you don’t like it, there’s going to be more death. It won’t just be the town hall that burns.”

“Seize her!” Schnee finally seemed to have gotten over his shock and pointed a shaking finger in her direction. But it was like a spell had been cast. Not even his deputies moved. Everyone was staring at Yang, numb with shock.

Weiss stepped forward, giving her father a baleful stare. “I stand with her,” she declared solemnly.

“And so do I.”

“Blake?” Yang said, surprised, eyes flicking over as Blake stood beside her. She hadn’t run, after all. She felt Blake’s hand settle on the small of her back. “I thought--”

“I’m not letting you have all the fun,” she murmured, the sound low and scratchy from her ordeal. Goosebumps ran down Yang’s back.

“Yeah?”

“Oh, stop,” Weiss muttered, then raised her voice for the crowd. “Citizens of Mantle! Since the town hall is still… ah, unavailable… we’ll be holding an open forum tonight, in the city square. We can further discuss--”

“What about _her_?” someone demanded, finger pointed to Blake. Yang tightened her grip on her guns.

“Sentencing will be suspended until we’ve elected a new mayor,” Weiss replied shortly. “Until all of this has been sorted out.”

“ _Weiss_ ,” Schnee warned. “ _I_ am the mayor.”

“You were never formally elected,” Yang pointed out. “You just sorta… took charge.”

And there it was, in the open. The shade of red his face turned clashed horribly with his white moustache. He almost looked like a caricature of the seedy businessman he was, white-knuckling his cane and a sour expression on his face. Yang smiled.

“Let’s turn Mantle into a _town_ again.”

\--

Yang had been ready for a fight, but most of the townsfolk respected her too much to cause trouble. There were some dirty looks from Schnee’s crowd as she led Blake away from the gallows, but no outright rebellion. Still, Yang didn’t breathe a sigh of relief until they’d gotten back to their house and locked the door behind them. She pulled her hat off, hanging it on its hook without taking her eyes away from Blake.

“Weiss seems to have it under control,” Blake remarked, rubbing absently at her wrists. The ropes that had bound her had been too tight and had dug into her skin, leaving red marks.

“She’s always been better at the politicking,” Yang agreed, leading Blake to the kitchen table. “Lemme take a look at that.”

“I’m fine,” Blake told her, smiling slightly. “I’m alive.”

“And now that you’re alive, we can focus on all this.” Yang knelt in front of her and took her hands, peering at the wrists closely. The abrasions couldn’t have felt good, and the skin was already blushing purple with bruise, but there was no lasting damage.

Her neck, too, looked painful. She very well could have died that day, had it taken too long for the rope to be shot through, had Yang’s hands trembled just a _little_. She ran her fingers across Blake’s darkening neck delicately, almost afraid to touch the marks the noose had left.

“I didn’t want you to drop,” she admitted, fingers following the curve of her bruise. “There were just too many guards, and I wouldn’t have been able to get you down. I swear, I didn’t want to pull that lever, and I made sure the drop wouldn’t break your neck, but--”

“Shhh.” Blake pressed a finger against Yang’s lips. “Weiss told me you’d probably have to pull it. I was ready. I trusted her, and I trusted you. I knew you wouldn’t let me die.”

“And now you’re hurt.” Yang couldn’t break her eyes away from choker of her bruise. “I didn’t want you to hurt.”

“It’s better than being dead,” Blake replied, ever the realist. She cupped Yang’s cheek in her palm. “I’m okay. I promise.”

Yang breathed out, then nodded. “Better than being dead,” she agreed.

There wasn’t much she could do for bruises. On her last trip to Argus, she’d gotten some expensive bruise balm to use in desperate situations, and this had to have counted. She rubbed it into Blake’s wrists and her neck. When Blake had unbuttoned her blouse and slipped it over her shoulders, her skin was a mess of purples and yellows. Yang bit back her fury.

“They were a little rough with me,” she told Yang, color rising to her cheeks with embarrassment. “They’re not… very gentle with prisoners.”

“I swear to the Gods, I’ll kill them,” Yang muttered. She’d seen how Luke had whaled Blake with his baton on the night she’d been arrested, but Yang had put a stop to that. Or so she had thought. She hadn’t been there to supervise the deputies at every moment, and she could see now that it had been a mistake. These bruises were her own fault, just as the hanging had been. “I’ll get new deputies. This won’t happen again, to anyone else.”

“Who would you pick? For a deputy?” Blake asked, leaning forward to give Yang access to her back.

“Well, Ruby said she’d come visit soon, so maybe I’ll ask her to stick around.”

“I’d love to meet her.”

They shared a quick smile, then Yang began to rub the balm into Blake’s skin. Blake winced, but made no sound. 

“You know Weiss is going to nominate you for mayor, right?” Blake asked when she’d finished. Yang sighed, then nodded as she screwed the cap back onto the balm. Blake straightened herself up gingerly. She may have still been in one piece, but she’d be hurting for days to come.

“Yeah.”

“You’d make a great mayor. They love you here.”

“I’m not sure they will, after this afternoon. Hell, I already failed as a sheriff.”

“Don’t say that,” Blake told her sternly. “Of course they will. The only people who won’t are Schnee’s people, and there aren’t _that_ many of them. If the Faunus could vote, it’d be a guarantee.”

“I’m not even sure I want it.” Yang made a face, then combed a hand through her hair. It was still damp with sweat. 

“Why not? You could do so much good.”

“I’m not like Weiss. I’m not good at politics.”

“Well, you’re good with people,” Blake reassured her. “And if you follow through with sticking up for the Faunus, you’ll have them at your back, too.”

“I s’pose.” Yang hesitated. “Would… the White Fang be open to talks, d’you think?”

Blake’s eyebrows shot up, and she opened her eyes. In the low light, her eyes almost seemed to glow. “Like… peace talks?”

“Yeah.”

Blake tilted her head, sharply enough for her hair to tumble over her shoulders. “You’d have to show that progress is being made… and Sienna isn’t the best negotiator.” She frowned. “So you’d _really_ have to prove yourself. Not just you, but the whole town, too. But if you did that… she _might_ be open to working with you.”

“Prove myself,” Yang repeated. “Noted.”

“Yang…” Blake’s words turned softer as anxiety tensed her muscles. “It’s… not just Sienna. Even if we win her over… Adam is still gonna cause problems.”

“Adam.” Yang scowled. The red-headed man from the attack, the one who’d outed Blake to the town. Among his people, atop his horse, he’d looked so proud. He expected to be untouchable, and he had been.

“He’s…” Blake’s body twitched, like she wanted to curl in on herself, the barest movement that Yang nonetheless caught. She opened her arms, pulling Blake into them comfortingly. “He’s just… He’s not going to let us rest. He’s too spiteful for that.”

“Then it’s a good thing he isn’t the leader,” Yang told her firmly. “If he tries anything here, I’ll kill him. I don’t miss.”

The words slipped out before she remembered that she _had_. She’d shot at him, but he’d been ready, catching her bullets against his sword.

Well, that would be the last time he surprised her with _that_ trick.

The darkness at the thought must have heavy enough for Blake to sense, for she leaned in, catching Yang off-guard with a kiss. She smelled minty, like the balm, though underneath was the sour smell of sweat and grime. The corners of Yang’s mouth twitched.

“I’m gonna draw up a bath for you,” she said. “We’ll freshen you up for the forum tonight.”

“The future mayor can’t have someone smelly on her arm,” Blake agreed, eyes twinkling with amusement. Yang groaned.

“Don’t say that. I’m no mayor.”

“Weiss seems to think otherwise.” Blake’s grin was full of mischief as Yang stood. “When she visited me last night, she sounded pretty confident you’d be elected.”

“Confidence? In me? That doesn’t sound like Weiss.”

“She was certainly confident in you today.” The reminder made Yang flinch. She didn’t think she’d ever get that vision out of her head, of Blake swinging in the air...

“God…” she murmured. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if this hadn’t worked.”

“Yang…”

“I just…” She stared blankly at the window, not seeing outside, only seeing the way Blake had twisted against the noose. “It should never have come to that.” She snapped her attention back to Blake, tried to weigh against the words with a strained smile. “I don’t know how I could’ve lived with myself if I’d lost you. You’re, like… one of the few things I’ve really _got_. I’ve got my guns, sure. My guns make me who I am, but, like… you’re my _why_. So if I’d killed you--”

“Yang.” Blake cupped her cheek. “You didn’t. I’m right here, and I’m _staying_ here. I trusted you today. I knew you wouldn’t let me die. And you didn’t.”

Yang took Blake’s other hand in her own and squeezed it. This was such a far cry from the Blake she’d first met, the one with wild, suspicious eyes and a scowl on her face. _Maybe I just don’t trust_ , she’d told Yang once, early on, almost like a dare. She hadn’t known, then, about the White Fang, or even that Blake was a Faunus, but since then, ever-so-slowly, she’d trade little pieces of herself for little pieces of Yang until they were as much each other as themselves.

And now she trusted Yang with her life.

“You only proved me right today,” Blake added quietly. “I trust you.” She paused. “I love you.”

She leaned in, meeting Yang’s lips with such a light kiss that it might have only been a thought. Then she pressed harder, her mouth soft and hot. Yang drank in her air, the proof that she was still alive.

“I love you, too,” Yang replied gently.

The future of the town may have been up in the air, but never had Yang had such a solid sense of her own self as she kissed Blake again.

She didn’t just know _who_ she was. Finally, she had a _why_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout-out to clamfam for this one. Sometimes, I write things and realize that I just hate my friends. Hopefully I've worked out the, uh, kinks...


	5. Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 5 - Beacon Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After the angsty past few days, I think I could use some solid fluff.
> 
> I don't know if this would be pre-tournament or in a universe where the Fall of Beacon didn't happen... but I don't care. :D

It wasn’t like Yang to stare at the clock instead of focusing on the lesson. Yet there she sat, staring, watching the minutes tick by to the drone of Professor Port’s voice. Blake kept darting glances to her, not liking the flush in her cheeks or the beads of sweat that were beginning to form on her temple.

“You okay?” Blake whispered, giving her a nudge. Yang grimaced.

One minute before the bell rang, Yang started shoving her binder and notebook and pencils into her bag haphazardly, foregoing her usual organization for the sake of speed. That meant that when the bell _did_ ring, she was ready. She flew out of her seat, up the stairs and out of the lecture hall. 

It was all Blake could do to keep track of her, at the blonde head bobbing ahead of her as she ran after Yang. She didn’t have far to go; Yang slipped into the bathroom, so Blake followed her in.

It didn’t take much to figure out which stall Yang had gone into, either. They were the only ones in there, and Yang hadn’t even bothered to close the stall door before falling to her knees in front of the toilet to vomit into it. Blake winced in sympathy and reached into her backpack for her water bottle.

Yang _had_ been looking a little off-color that day, but Blake had assumed it had to do with the stress of studying for finals. None of Team RWBY had eaten much lunch. Even Ruby had only picked at her food, gnawing at a carrot stick without really trying to eat it as she pored over her notes.

The toilet flushed, and Yang stepped out, dabbing her mouth with some toilet paper, face redder than it had been during class. Upon seeing Blake, she stopped, embarrassed.

“Here.” Blake held out her water bottle, which Yang took gratefully. She nodded, then poured some into her mouth without touching the mouth of the bottle. She spat it back out into the sink, then took real gulps that she could swallow.

“Thanks,” she rasped at last, the bottle half-gone.

“Did you seriously wait till the end of class to puke?” Blake asked, an attempt at a tease. Yang smiled weakly.

“I didn’t want to draw too much attention to myself, and if I _really_ needed to, I would’ve left.”

“Right.” Blake raised an eyebrow. “Y’know, you could’ve just excused yourself from class if you weren’t feeling good.”

“Too much effort.” Yang took another sip. “Plus, it’s Friday. I figured I could survive one more day of class. I’d rather do that than try to catch up.”

“You didn’t look like you were paying attention in Port’s class,” Blake pointed out. “You’ll have to catch up, anyway.”

Yang’s chuckle was low. Now that the emergency in her stomach had been taken care of, she was fading fast, the redness in her cheeks giving way to a shade that was too pale.

“Good thing I have a partner who takes good notes,” she replied. She loosened the collar of her uniform, then tossed her wad of toilet paper into the trash can. “Shit, we were going out with Jaune and the others tonight, weren’t we?”

“Not anymore.”

They caught up with Weiss and Ruby back in the dorm room. They had already gotten changed for a night in Vale, and both were disappointed that Yang wouldn’t be joining them. Weiss had wrinkled her nose in distaste at hearing why Yang had run off so quickly after class, while Ruby had backed away, holding her hands in front of her like she was warding off the devil.

“Don’t get me sick!” she warned.

“Love the sympathy, Rubes,” Yang had replied tiredly, plunking into her chair. “But that means I’m gonna just stay here tonight.”

“That’s probably wise,” Weiss replied, inclining her head. “It’ll probably be more therapeutic for you to stay here and rest. Without anyone to harass you.”

She gave Ruby a hard look, who feigned outrage. “Are you _kidding_?! Even if we weren’t going out tonight, I would _now_! I don’t want to stay here and get her _germs_.”

“Again, I really appreciate the sympathy.” Yang rolled her eyes, then lay her head on the desk, resting it in her arms. “You guys have fun tonight.”

“We’re gonna _crush_ Jaune at bowling!” Ruby pumped her fist. “We’ll take lots of pictures.”

“And _you_ just get better,” Weiss added, her voice a tad softer than usual. “You can’t be sick for finals.”

Blake looked from Weiss and Ruby, waiting expectantly for her at the door, to Yang, still slumped over her desk. She hesitated, then shook her head.

“Actually, I think I’ll keep Yang company tonight. She could probably use a chaperone.”

“Blake, no. Go have fun.” Yang lifted her head, her smile bright like a dying star. “I’ll be fine.”

Blake ignored that, turning back to face Weiss and Ruby. “Just kick JNPR’s butt for us. Maybe they’ll lend you one of their members for bowling, to even your teams out.”

“Pyrrha seems like a good bowler,” Ruby replied, tempted. Weiss nodded.

“Blake--” Yang protested, but Blake shook her head, cutting her off.

“I’ve made up my mind. Have fun, guys.”

“I’ll put biohazard tape outside the door!” Ruby promised as Weiss dragged her away.

“You’ll do no such thing!” she could hear Weiss say, even after the door had been shut behind them. Blake chuckled, turning back to Yang, who’d lifted her head off of her arms. She gave Blake a withering look.

“You should’ve gone out with them,” she told her dully. No longer needing to perform for her little sister, Yang’s words and eyes lost their spark, and Blake could now fully appreciate exactly how terrible Yang felt. She strode over to Yang, putting her hands on her shoulders and giving them a gentle squeeze.

“If I’d gone, I would’ve spent the whole night worrying about you.” Yang’s shoulders sagged slightly under her grip, and Blake took it as encouragement that she was doing something right. She rubbed them, Yang’s muscles tight under her blazer. “If I’m here, at least I won’t be worried.”

Yang let out a disbelieving huff, but her lack of argument was telling. She sank lower with each passing moment of Blake’s hands against her shoulders, then her back.

“Get changed, brush your teeth. I’ll go grab you some dinner.”

“I don’t think I can--”

“Soup.” Blake smiled at her as Yang turned her head around, looking uncertain. “Just to get something in you. Y’know, since you just threw everything up.”

“Yeah,” Yang agreed glumly, letting Blake tug her blazer off her shoulders. She draped it across her desk, then jutted her head over to their bunks.

“You can take my bunk tonight.” Yang opened her mouth to protest, but Blake didn’t give her a chance. “If you need to puke again, I’d rather you be closer to the floor. I do _not_ want to get puked on.”

At this, Yang cracked a wan smile. “I have excellent aim.”

“And the last thing I want to see is projectile vomiting from the top bunk.” Blake cringed at the notion. “Seriously. Just for tonight. I really don’t mind.”

Yang gave her a mock salute then slumped, almost comically, across the desk. Shaking her head, Blake grabbed her thermos and left Yang to her own devices.

Students weren’t _technically_ supposed to take food from the dining hall, but with the end of the semester at hand, rules had slackened. On a Friday night, not many people were around to stop her, anyway. Blake ladled chicken noodle soup into her thermos, taking care to get more broth than noodles or chunks of chicken. It was the broth that would help the most; anything solid that Yang ate was likely to come back up.

When she got back to their room, thermos in hand, she was pleased to see that Yang had changed and was sprawled across the bottom bunk. She’d dragged a trash can over to the side of the bed, presumably to throw up in if she needed to. Her eyes were closed, but she opened one as she heard the door open.

“Thanks,” she grumbled, sitting herself up on the bed to sit against the wall. “I’ll eat it. So you should go catch up with Weiss and Ruby. I’m probably just going to sleep, anyway.”

Her words sounded rehearsed, and Blake raised a skeptical eyebrow as she poured the contents of the thermos into a bowl.

“So just leave you?” she asked, unable to keep a trace of amusement from her voice.

“Basically, yeah.”

Blake let a full smile bloom. “And you know I’m not going to do that, right?”

“Well, I thought I’d try.” She took the bowl gratefully from Blake. “You really didn’t have to do this.”

“I know.” Blake shrugged. “But it’s a lot better than worrying about you all night.”

She allowed Yang to eat in peace, taking advantage of the time to change into her own pajamas and eat a granola bar. All the while, though, she kept throwing Yang glances, expecting another puking episode. She was relieved when nothing happened.

When she’d finished eating, Blake took the bowl and slid a hand across Yang’s forehead. The skin was clammy and hot to the touch.

“God, I’m tired,” Yang complained.

“Then you should sleep.”

“ _Then_ will you go out?”

“No.” Blake joined her on the bed, sitting beside her. Yang, who was hot-natured anyway, felt like a furnace with her fever, but Blake didn’t move away. “I already said, I’m not leaving you.”

“Stubborn.” Yang’s lips, though pale, quirked into a smile. “I gotta say, I’m not used to this.”

“Used to what?”

Yang shrugged, rolling her shoulders languidly and sidling up beside Blake. “Dad was always busy with work. If I was sick, I’d just stay home from school and take care of myself. I mean, I always helped Ruby, but…” Yang made a face. It might have been more than she’d been meaning to say, vulnerabilities poking through her illness, so she finished with a lame, “I’m just not used to it.”

“Being taken care of?” Blake asked quietly. Yang shrugged again. Unexpectedly, it made Blake’s heart hurt. She’d been fortunate to have a mother who would stay with her whenever she’d gotten sick, to make her soup and tuck her into bed. She should have known that Yang’s memories of anything like that would be distant, if they were there at all.

Tenderly, Blake pushed back a curl of blonde hair that had stuck to Yang’s sweaty forehead. Yang looked down, color rising into her feverish cheeks.

“I was fine,” Yang said dismissively, defensively. “I lived, obviously.”

“It’s nice to have sometimes, though.” Blake took one of Yang’s hands in both of her own. For all the fever, Yang’s fingers were cold. Then, lightly, “I don’t mind taking care of you sometimes. When you need it.”

Yang didn’t respond, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was merely thoughtful, like the very idea of being taken care of had never crossed her mind before and only now was she deigning to imagine it.

“So?” Blake went on, her smile gentle. “Let me.”

She smoothed back Yang’s hair again, and Yang let herself be guided down, onto her back. Her hair, roots damp with sweat, splayed out across Blake’s pillow. Blake made to stand up, to give her space, but stopped moving at Yang’s plaintive, “Wait.”

She waited, letting Yang search for words. It was so obvious, in that brief search for what to say, that she wasn’t used to voicing what she wanted or needed. So Blake was patient, letting Yang think.

“Could… you stay with me? Here? For just a bit?”

The breath caught in Blake’s throat, and she nodded. She settled on the side closer to the wall, not wanting to get in the way of the trash can if Yang needed it. She wriggled her body close to Yang, feeling the burn of her body through her nightgown, and pulled the blanket over them.

“Thanks,” Yang murmured, face inches from Blake’s. Her face was sweaty, and hot, but not entirely unpleasant when Blake closed the gap, letting their foreheads rest against each other. “You’re not going to get sick from being too close to me?” Yang asked, the timbre of her low voice making Blake’s heart pound.

“I’ve got a good immune system. I think I can take it.”

“Mhm.”

For just a moment, they stared into each other’s eyes. Despite Yang’s illness, there was an easy balance between them, the kind of balance that nonetheless caught Blake off-guard. Balance was something she had never been used to in her White Fang days, but with Yang, she was evenly matched in every way. 

There was a warmth in her stomach, and it wasn’t just from Yang’s body heat. It almost reminded her of a time not too long ago, when it had been Blake who’d needed the help, to be taken care of. Yang had wrapped her arms around her, giving Blake the permission she hadn’t known she’d needed.

_Just get some rest_ , Yang had told her, so kindly, with a gentleness that Blake hadn't expected.

Now their sides had been reversed.

Blake smiled at Yang, recognizing the dark circles under her eyes as the same ones she had worn not very long ago. Before she could convince herself otherwise, she leaned in, dancing her lips across Yang’s. It went to show the depth of their relationship, how she wasn’t surprised when Yang returned the kiss with what almost seemed like eagerness. So much, in fact, that Blake had to be the one to cut it off, smiling.

“Now sleep,” she told Yang, who nodded mutely. Blake wrapped her arms around her, pulling her in closer. There would be plenty of time in the future for whatever came next, for whatever that kiss might mean. They’d have time.

But for now, they would rest. Yang closed her eyes, head against Blake’s chest, and did.


	6. Rut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 6 - Beach Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't technically a _beach_ day, but I feel like I'll be doing that with Anchor, so I wanted to do something different for this prompt.
> 
> If you haven't read [Shelter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17868830/chapters/42170114), you might not understand _everything_ they're referring to here, but I tried to contextualize when needed. So yeah. The farmer bees are back for this prompt! Also, non-graphic depictions of goat breeding happen in this chapter.
> 
> Oh, and in case you couldn't guess from the title: This is porn. You've been warned.

“I hate everything about this,” Blake grumbled. She nearly had a headache from not just the stench and the heat, but from the way she’d been wrinkling her nose all afternoon. Yang laughed even as she tugged Lulu along by a leash. Lulu, not used to being led, planted all four hooves on the ground in resistance. Blake, used to goat theatrics by now, gave the goat a hard shove on the rump, earning them a few more steps toward the breeding pen.

“Well, you’re still here,” Yang pointed out. Blake nodded, opening the gate for Yang to pull Lulu through. “C’mon, girl. I know you want this,” she told the small white goat, who finally took a few more steps. Once inside, Yang unhooked her and shimmied out of the gate, closing it behind her. Job done, she dragged her arm across the forehead to wipe away the sweat that was starting to course down her forehead.

Lulu had been flirting with the male goats, the bucks, all day, like most of the herd. Blake had been amazed by the display when she first saw the goats park themselves along the fence where they could see the boys, bleating desperately. Some of them had turned their butts in the bucks’ direction, tails upright.

 _Take me_ , the does had been seeming to beg.

“Am I like that?” Blake had asked in a low voice on the first day she saw it. Yang had laughed and laughed.

Late spring was the official start of breeding season on _Summer’s Acres_. Tai had made a chart of who would be bred by who, organized by color. Throughout the next few weeks, they’d make an educated guess about who was in heat, put them in with a buck, and hope they bred. For every successful breeding, they would write down the date and in approximately 145 days, the doe would kid.

Tai had gotten the technicalities down to a science, and this was the first day to see his plan put to work. The first doe they’d put in with Hercules had rejected his advances, so they’d pulled her out and brought in Lulu. 

“It isn’t always exact,” Yang told her while they watched Hercules approach Lulu, tongue hanging out. “Sometimes, a goat will _act_ like she’s in heat, and then she’s not. Dad’s noticed that when the girls mount each other, it’s usually the bottom one who’s in heat, not the top.”

The face Blake made was all the reply she needed. Yang burst out laughing, not for the first time that day.

“Yeah, yeah. As I said, goats are different than humans.”

“I’m not sure what I’d do if you smelled as badly as Hercules,” Blake replied. Wild-eyed, Hercules made a warbling nose and licked Lulu’s back. She flicked her tail, signaling her interest. 

“Oh, please. If you were a goat, you’d be into that.”

When the bucks had gone into rut, it seemed like the whole farm had taken on a sour, musky odor. The heat of the day only made it worse. Blake shook her head. The heat-exacerbated stench had seemed to make all the does go into heat all at once. They were _definitely_ into it.

“Good thing we’re not goats, though I bet you’re still going to smell like one tonight,” Blake told her. Since Blake was still new to goat breeding, Yang had volunteered to handle the rowdy bucks. They’d both stink, but Yang would bear the brunt of it. “As soon as we’re done, you’re taking a shower.”

“I have a better idea.” Yang’s eyes twinkled as they broke away from the caprine foreplay to regard Blake for a moment. It was a mischievous look that set Blake’s heart to racing. “There’s a-- oh. Yeah, that breeding took.”

Blake winced.

Yang wasn’t able to finish her thought until the pair had gone a couple more rounds. She took the clipboard, marking the date beside Lulu’s name. In three weeks, they’d see if she went back into heat, Yang explained, but usually, the one breeding was all it took. The boys were potent, and Lulu had been receptive. In the goat world, it was as easy as that.

“What I was _saying_ ,” Yang explained, opening the door and releasing Lulu back into general population, “is that once we’re done here, we can go swimming. There’s a creek nearby that Ruby and I used to go to when we were kids. And Dad said that once we finished up here, we can be free for the rest of the afternoon.”

“He probably just didn’t want to work with you when you stink,” Blake teased. With a snort, Yang seized her around the waist. Blake shrieked, shoving Yang away with a laugh. “Stop! You’re gonna make _me_ stink.”

“Well, the pretty girl goats will think you’re sexy!” She released a still-laughing Blake, then looked around at the herd. “All right, let’s grab Fuckin’ Rhonda. I’m pretty sure she’s in heat, too.”

All told, they only managed four successful breedings that day. For all the flirtation, not as many does had been as receptive to the bucks as they’d thought.

“Besides,” Yang told her. “Best-case scenario and they all got knocked up, that’ll mean four goats will be due on the same day. We don’t want to stress ourselves out too much.”

Somehow, Blake didn’t think this upcoming breeding season could be any more stressful than the last one. When she’d moved to the farm that past fall, things had been chaotic and frightening for a few months while she was being stalked, harassed, and nearly killed by Adam. With him gone, the next kidding season was bound to be easier. 

Even now, she still had the occasional bad dream about that last night he’d appeared. She knew for a fact that Yang did, too, though she tried to keep them to herself. Time was healing for them, and simply being with each other had done more for their mental well-being than anything else ever could. Any time she heard Yang groan in the night, forehead creasing against whatever she was dreaming about, Blake would curl closer against her. When needed, Yang would always return the favor.

Yang grunted as she escaped the buck pen. Eager to be with the girls, all six of the bucks had clamored to the gate, surrounding Yang with their furry bodies and their aroma in their attempt to get out.

“Yang…” Blake said as seriously as she could, stifling a smile. “You _reek_.”

“And now I’ll be irresistible to the ladies!” Yang waggled her eyebrows. “Though, there’s only one lady I want to be irresistible to.”

“Yeah, but right now? You’re super resistible.”

“Ouch. My poor, delicate heart.” Yang clutched at her chest dramatically. “I’m too sensitive for such words.”

“Oh, shut up,” Blake muttered. Stink or no stink, she grabbed Yang by the shirt, drawing her in for a kiss.

\--

The creek wasn’t quite a mile from the farm. They walked there through the woods, treading a well-worn path that Blake had noticed before, but had never explored. The mosquitos were bad, and both she and Yang slapped at themselves throughout the walk.

“This better be worth it.”

“It is. It is.”

The creek was wider than Blake expected, flowing lazily through the woods and out of sight. She pulled off her shirt and jeans, leaving them in a heap on one of the rocks. Her swimsuit was a practical one-piece, bought for their trip to Menagerie and not used since. “Where does it go?” she asked.

“Ruby and I tried to figure that out once,” Yang replied, pulling off her own shirt. “We took a couple innertubes and floated as far as we could go. We stopped when we got to a bridge, and since we didn’t have phones, getting back home was a pain in the ass.”

Blake had stopped listening as soon as she’d figured that Yang hadn’t brought a swimsuit. Instead, she watched as Yang unhooked her bra, setting it neatly on a rock with their towels and the rest of the clothes she took off. Her jeans, her underwear…

“Yang…” Blake looked around, needing to make sure they were alone. “What if someone comes?”

“Nobody will.” Yang carefully stepped down the rocky slope, making her way to the water. “I didn’t want to get my bathing suit all bucky.”

Blake stood, transfixed, as she watched Yang stride deeper into the water. The water must have been cold, for Yang stopped at her thighs and turned around, nipples stiff. She gritted her teeth against the chill. 

“You coming in or what?”

Blake forced herself to blink, then nod. She followed the path Yang had taken down to the water, neatly avoiding the more jagged rocks. As she did so, Yang decided to bite the bullet, bouncing her way deeper and submerging. Her hair fanned out behind her in the water, long and golden as it flowed with the current.

“Whew!” When Yang surfaced, she gave a great shiver. “It’s… not so bad!”

“Right.” Blake tested the water with her foot, proving Yang’s lie. “God, this is awful. Nothing like Menagerie.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, we’re a little further north than Menagerie.” Yang winked, then straightened a little. Blake tried not to stare at the tempting angles of her collarbone, but failed miserably. “Don’t take your time. It’s worse when you take it slow.”

Rolling her eyes, Blake took a step into the water, feeling goosebumps spread across her body as she got deeper. Yang waited, tauntingly, just out of reach. Just the sight of her bare shoulders was enough for Blake to feel just a bit warmer. She crouched a little, soaking herself up to her navel.

“None of that!” Yang scoffed, and then she lunged forward. Before Blake could stop her, she grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her backward. Blake screeched in indignation as she fell back, the cold water shocking on her skin.

“ _Yang!_ ” she squealed when she’d found her footing. She hadn’t gone completely under, but enough of her hair had gotten wet that it stuck to her back. “I…”

And then Yang’s body was pressed against her front, refreshingly warm against the cold, and Blake had forgotten what she was going to say.

“You…?” Yang asked, grinning, an invitation to finish her thought. Blake let out a huff, hands automatically setting onto Yang’s waist.

“I… don’t know why you’d get into water this cold, _naked_ ,” she finally accused, because that was the only thing on her mind now: the frigid water and the hot skin under her palms.

“Does a bathing suit _really_ keep you warm?”

“Something about trapping your heat, I think…”

“That’s a wetsuit, babe.”

“Shut up.” Despite the words, the tone had no bite, and Blake couldn’t stop the smile on her lips. “Well, I don’t know. I guess I wouldn’t know.”

“You wouldn’t know… have you not been skinny dipping before?” Yang raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“I didn’t exactly have much fun until moving here, remember?”

“Oh… yeah.” Yang bit into her lower lip, slightly ashamed. “I forget sometimes. It feels like you’ve been here forever already.”

“I know.” Blake smiled reassuringly. “It does, doesn’t it? All of that… stuff… it was like a whole lifetime ago.”

“And now you’re here. And now you can have fun.” A chill ran up Blake’s back that had nothing to do with the icy water. Yang’s hands were on her sides, separated by only that thin layer of swimsuits.

“I… Yeah.” Reflexively, she looked around, then let go of Yang. She slid her fingers beneath the straps of her swimsuit, pulling them over her arms and peeling the whole thing off her body. Yang held her steady against the insistent tug of the current as she bent down to step out it. She felt Yang’s eyes on her, even stronger than the flow of the water.

Swimsuit gone, the water felt a little cooler on her skin as she tossed it to shore. It landed on the creek’s edge, just out of reach of the water. She took a deep breath.

“And the verdict?” Yang asked in a low voice, inching closer. 

“It’s… nice,” Blake admitted, sliding her hands slowly up Yang’s sides.

Yang smirked. “Yeah.”

It was only natural that her lips found their way to Yang’s, slotting against them hungrily. The water may have been cold, but her lips were so warm and her mouth was hot. Soon, even the temperature was forgotten; Yang’s body warmed her enough to make the water seem like nothing.

Yang’s hands stretched over Blake’s stomach, fingers spreading over as much of her skin as they could. Blake sucked in an inhale as they skimmed over her breasts, dragging one finger at a time over her nipples. Her own hands roamed Yang’s curves, aching and desperate for that contact.

None of it felt like enough.

It was harder to find time to themselves like this. Even if Tai hadn’t been a constant presence around them, work on the farm was long and exhausting. Usually, they had no energy to do anything more than sink into bed and close their eyes. But here, the water was rejuvenating, the air fresh, and the sky was above them limitless. Everything they wanted was here. They could take it all.

Yang worked her mouth down Blake’s neck, nipping as she directed her backward into shallower water. There was a boulder on the shore, and now all Blake could imagine was being bent over it. She sighed into Yang’s ear. “Please.”

The mouth on her neck curled into a smile, and even though Blake was almost completely out of the water now, she still didn’t feel cold. She leaned back onto rock, pushed up on her elbows, looking up at the red in Yang’s eyes. Blake opened her mouth, only to catch her breath, but then Yang was on top of her, tongue slipping into her mouth and a hand rubbing Blake’s slowly-opening thighs.

“I thought we were swimming,” Blake managed to say as Yang’s lips moved sloppily across her jaw. Yang chuckled, slipping a finger against her and making Blake’s hips jerk.

“Who says I’m not?” And _God_ , maybe Yang was right. 

While the boulder _did_ end up being the perfect height to be bent over, rocks weren’t the most comfortable thing to be fucked on. Blake kept herself propped on her forearms as she grinded against Yang’s fingers, even as Yang pressed her body into Blake’s back. She’d end up with a rocky imprint on her arms and stomach, but it wasn’t uncomfortable enough to prevent a climax. On the contrary, she was rising fast, almost uncontrollably. 

“ _Yang_ ,” she groaned. Without anyone nearby, she could afford to moan her name as loudly as she wanted to, and she did, the sound tasting almost as good as Yang’s mouth had.

“I love the way you say my name,” Yang murmured darkly into her ear, her breath hot and sensuous, hand working messily inside her. “Say it again.”

She did, the singular word rising in volume and pitch as Yang built her up. Then, right on the brink, Yang slowed down to an agonizing pace that set Blake to whining.

“Tell me what you want,” Yang breathed, not quite stopping. Blake could barely string two thoughts together, let alone sentences, but somehow, she could manage a beg.

“Please, God, _please_ , just _fuck_ me!”

Yang laughed, curling her fingers in just the right way that Blake’s heart stutter and her blood roar in her ears. She had to have been dripping down Yang’s hand, clenching around her fingers as she came.

It took a moment to catch her flyaway thoughts. She sank against the stone, practically melting into it, breathing heavily as her body gave up its last spasms. Yang’s brushed the hair away from Blake’s neck, pressing a kiss against it as she slipped her hand away.

“Was this… your plan all along?” Blake panted, pushing herself back up and looking behind at Yang, who’d taken a step back. “Drag me down to the creek and seduce me?”

“Well, I don’t think much _seduction_ needed to be involved,” Yang replied with a smirk, wiping her hand on her thigh. “All I had to do was take my clothes off.”

Blake snorted, then stood up shakily. Her skin was drying, and the sun felt pleasant on her bare skin. “I guess it worked.”

With casual smugness, Yang came close again, leaning against the rock that she’d just had Blake bent over, the site of a battle that she’d just won. Blake grabbed her arm, then pulled her close enough to kiss. Then, with a gentle push, she had Yang sitting.

“What about you?” Blake asked, amused, as she leaned over her and grazed a hand between her legs. She didn’t need to see Yang’s fervent nod; her fingers came away soaked.

“You didn’t even _need_ to take your clothes off, baby.” Her grin was wide, though it grew tense with anticipation. “You could’ve been wearing a parka and I’d still be turned on.”

“Oh, then should I put my clothes back on?” Blake asked, drawing back as if she were serious. Yang’s eyes glittered red.

She stared down at Yang for a minute, her eyes growing softer as she traced a hand over Yang’s abs. Her muscles were taut, her inhales shaky. Blake wouldn’t keep her waiting. Not today.

“I love you,” she told Yang simply as she leaned over her, placing a kiss between her breasts and dragging her lips down her stomach. Yang’s hands knotted in her hair.

“I love you, too,” Yang said, her voice small and breathless. “God, I love-- _ah!_ ”

That’s all this was, and that’s all it had ever been with them. Blake never liked the term _making love_ ; it sounded cheesy, old-fashioned. She and Yang had giggled over the term once. It was a term old people might use, or how they described over-the-top encounters in books or movies.

But this was exactly all of this was; _love_.

Blake took her time. Though she wouldn’t _torture_ Yang, it wouldn’t stop her from teasing. This wasn’t the quick, messy act they’d watched goats do all afternoon. Water lapped at Blake’s ankles as she kissed a thigh, ran her tongue over skin. She listened to the sound of Yang’s body, hearing the sighs and feeling the squirms. Nothing in this life was better than hearing, seeing, feeling, _tasting_ the way Yang fell apart.

Yang’s hips rolled when Blake flattened her tongue, cum smearing her chin. With one hand braced against Yang’s thigh, hearing the crack in her moans was too much. She reached her other hand between her own legs, rubbing herself to those beautiful sounds. She flicked her eyes up, but Yang had her head thrown back, losing herself to the euphoria of the climb. Blake smiled and gave it to her.

It was as Yang’s gasps turned more desperate that Blake stopped the uncoordinated dancing of her fingers to slide them into Yang’s cunt. It was the way they caught inside of her that tipped Yang over the edge with a loud, guttural sound that could have been an attempt at saying Blake’s name. Her muscles clenched around Blake’s fingers, but she pumped them a few more times, slowing as Yang began to come down.

She withdrew when Yang had collapsed against the rock. With Yang’s wetness still on her fingers, Blake rubbed frantic circles around her own clit until she’d crested once more, following Yang into that sweet haze. Closing her eyes, she sank back into the water without even a gasp at its temperature, relaxing back against the rock. After the heat of sex, the cold felt _nice_.

The water rippled, and soon, Yang was sitting down beside her. Wordlessly, Blake flopped her head onto her shoulder. 

“I like this creek,” she said tiredly. Yang chuckled, angling herself inward toward Blake and running a hand through her half-dried hair.

“I always liked it before,” she agreed, “but I think I like it more now. And we’ve got it to ourselves till Ruby gets back from Signal.”

“Then let’s just live here.”

“On the rocks?”

“Sure.”

“Well, I guess that isn’t too big a deal for you, li’l miss runaway, but if there’s a bed available, I’m sleeping in it.” Yang gave her a wink at the reference to Blake’s arrival on the farm. She’d slept outdoors after she’d run away from Adam, only sneaking into Yang’s hayloft during a rainstorm.

She wondered, sometimes, at the fortuitousness of that storm. That one storm, her quick decision to sleep in a stranger’s barn, had ended up being life-changing. Who said it couldn’t have been fate?

Blake wiggled closer against Yang through the water and pulled herself up into her lap. She took a sweet inhale, then smiled. 

“You don’t stink anymore,: she commented. Yang chuckled, then wrapped her arms around her tenderly. 

“Good,” she replied, beaming. “Goats… So undignified. Someone should really let them know that you don’t need to stink to be attractive.”

“I’m so glad we’re not goats.”

Yang laughed again, then offered her a small kiss. “Me too.”

Blake nuzzled her face into the crook of Yang’s neck. Not for the first time, she thanked the universe for the storm that had led her to Yang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've got one more official day of Bumbleby Week left, and I'm still trying to find a good prompt for a bonus day. Please send some my way; I'm not very creative when it comes to one-shots, but I'd love to throw a little something in for bonus day.


	7. Ready

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 7 - Growing Old Together/Future

Nora was _huge_.

Blake could see Yang’s look of mild alarm, and squeezed her hand. But even her size couldn’t stop Nora. She took one look at them, squealed excitedly, and bustled over, and Blake had the vague impression that she and Yang were only pins to this red-headed bowling ball.

“It’s been so _long_!” Nora exclaimed, throwing her arms around both of them at once, her belly sliding between them as if the gap had been made for it. “I _never_ see you anymore!”

“It _is_ harder now that you haven’t been able to go on missions,” Blake replied, shooting Yang a smile. “We’ve been keeping up with your pictures, though.”

Nora laughed. “Well, I haven’t had much else to do other than take pictures. I’m thinking I should just quit huntressing altogether and just become a food photographer or something.”

As she talked, her hand moved to her stomach, settling there with idle protectiveness. New habits popped up with pregnancy, and that slight movement was familiar enough to Nora to be one of them. Yang’s eyes lingered on her hand just a bit too long, the gaze soft, and her hand twitched, though only Blake noticed that subtle shift. Before anyone else could, she snapped her attention back to Nora’s face with a relaxed smile. 

“I somehow doubt that. You’re not good at sitting still.”

“And the pregnancy _definitely_ hasn’t changed that,” Ren said with a sigh, coming up to them. “Good to see you.”

“Congratulations, _dad_ ,” Yang said, lightly punching his arm. “Thanks for inviting us.”

“Well, technically, it was Weiss who did that,” he corrected, gesturing with his head to where Weiss stood amid a gaggle of their friends. “She organized this whole thing.”

“She would,” Yang replied, amused. The formality of the invitations alone had led them to thinking that Weiss had played some role in the baby shower; the foil font, the embossing, all screamed _Weiss_. If it had been Nora’s doing, Blake figured there probably would have been more colors and more confetti. “She’s always loved anything that had to do with babies.”

“Ugh, well, once he’s born, she’s welcome to him. I’ve had enough of the heartburn.” Nora made a face, then leaned in. “And my tits feel like they’re gonna _explode_.”

Unexpectedly, Blake laughed, and though Yang smiled drolly, she didn’t join in. Again, Blake squeezed her hand.

“Well, I gotta make the rounds. We’ll catch up in a bit, okay?” Nora grinned at them, gave them one more belly-bumping hug, and marched off, a pronounced waddle in her step.

“Rounds,” Yang snorted, watching Nora go straight to the snacks. “Well, _some_ things don’t change.”

“She woke me up in the middle of the night last week to make her a fruit salad,” Ren replied with a sigh. “And then she cried because there were blueberries in it.”

At this, Yang _did_ laugh. “Other than that, everything’s going well?” Blake asked.

“The doctor says it’s a textbook pregnancy,” he replied, and a small smile curled on his lips. “But we’re both ready for him to come out. Nora’s just about had enough with being pregnant.”

“I could see that,” Blake murmured.

“So, you’re _ready_?” Yang repeated, almost skeptical. “I didn’t know that was a thing.”

“Probably not.” Ren laughed. “I don’t think we could ever be as ready as we’d want to be. But the love’s ready, and that’s the most important part. We’ll figure the rest out as we go.”

“You make it sound easy.” Blake’s words were light, but a touch dry. Yang, sensitive to her tones, looked up at her with a raised eyebrow. 

“Well, it can’t be any harder than taking down an evil, immortal queen.” Ren chuckled at his own joke. “It hasn’t been easy, and it’s only going to get harder once the baby’s here, but it’s not really different than fighting on a team. We’ll work together and we’ll flourish, just like we’ve always done.”

Ren’s words were so calm, so confident, that Blake couldn’t help but feel a little more at ease. He’d always been the sensible one, and he wouldn’t say something he didn’t mean. It was steadying, in a way, even though he didn’t know it.

“Oh, we brought this.” Blake held up the gift bag, decorated with pastel animals. “Where should we put it?”

“Oh, thank you. Weiss has a table set up for gifts, but I can take it there. I need to greet a few more people, anyway.” He smiled again as he took the bag. “I’m so glad you could come.”

“We wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Yang gave him one more light punch on the arm. “ _Dad_.”

After he set off down the hall, Blake and Yang moved across the living room, hand in hand. Most of the people here were ones they recognized; Ruby, Weiss, Jaune and his date, Oscar, and, outside by the pool, the entirety of Team CFVY. Other huntsmen, too, more acquaintances than friends to Blake and Yang, milled around, making smalltalk. For not having any blood family, Nora and Ren had filled their house with family of their own making. 

“I hope Weiss isn’t going to make us do any of those stupid baby shower games,” Blake commented as she dug around in a tub of drinks and ice. She grabbed a cider for herself. “Want anything to drink?”

“Just a water. Thanks, babe.” She took it, though she didn’t uncap it yet. She scanned the crowd, looking for other people she recognized. “Oh, hey, Saph! Gods, Adrian, how old are you now?”

Blake sat back, letting Yang take the reins on the conversations. Even now, Yang could carry on like nothing was different. She still spoke just as naturally with others, still laughed in the same way. Really, it had only when she’d spoken to Nora that Blake had seen some of her anxiety poke through. While they had talked, Yang had lifted a hand inward, making as if to touch her own stomach in the comfortable way Nora had done. Just as quickly, Yang’s hand had settled back by her side, nothing different.

As Yang talked, Blake put together a small plate of crackers, deli meats, and the blander cheeses. Anything smellier than cheddar was bound to make Yang’s stomach roil, and they wouldn’t risk that at the party. Blake gave a regretful look to the wedge of Roquefort cheese before making her way back to Yang.

“Hungry?” she asked Yang, holding up the plate.

“You know it!” With a final nod to the Cotta-Arcs, they wove their way through the other guests, making their way outside. “God, I’m hungry.”

“And we just ate lunch.”

“So?” Yang plopped herself onto a chair by the patio table, giving a brief wave to Coco and the others before zeroing in on her food. “Well, at least I’ve got a reason for it. Ruby has no excuse. Did you see her shoving that _whole_ cupcake in her mouth? She’s gonna choke.”

Blake took the chair beside her, content to watch as Yang piled cheese and pepperoni on one of the crackers. She was one to talk about choking, she thought, amused, as Yang popped the whole thing in her mouth.

“So? Is it weird for you?” Yang asked when she’d finished chewing. Already, she was making up another cracker.

“For?”

Yang looked over her shoulder at Team CFVY and lowered her voice. “You sounded a little nervous when we were talking to Ren.”

“Oh.” Blake shrugged. “Well… I don’t know. You know how I am.”

Smiling, Yang nodded and bit into her cracker. She chewed it thoughtfully, then swallowed. “It’s all right to be nervous. Hell, seeing Nora like that makes _me_ nervous. Am _I_ gonna be that big?”

“You could be twice that size and still be beautiful,” Blake teased, propping her elbow on the table and resting her chin in her hand. “Seriously.”

“You _have_ to say that ‘cause we’re married.” Yang laughed. “But, still. It looks uncomfortable, and she’s still got another month. I can’t even imagine--”

“ _You_ were the one who wanted to carry,” Blake pointed out.

“I know, I know. I’m just teasing. I’m not changing my mind or anything.”

“Good, since you can’t.”

With a wicked grin, Yang placed a daring palm against her abdomen, finally giving in to that tempting touch. Her back was to Team CFVY, so nobody else was there to question her. Still, Blake looked around worriedly. Someone else’s baby shower would be a bad time to announce their own pregnancy, and it was still early enough that they didn’t want to publicize the news yet.

“So?” Yang asked softly. “In a few months, we’ll be having a baby shower of our own.”

“And Weiss will be begging to emboss the invitations.”

At this, Yang laughed, loud enough to draw the attention of Team CFVY. Fortunately, she’d taken her hand off her stomach, and when Coco looked at them over her shades, there was only amusement, not suspicion.

“Something funny, Xiao Long?” Coco called.

“Oh, we’re just laughing at Weiss’s expense again.” Yang waved her hand dismissively. Coco rolled her eyes and pushed her sunglasses back up.

“Just like every other day.”

Yang snorted at this, then turned back to her food. Blake nabbed a cracker and nibbled on it. They ate in silence for a few minutes, the music and the chatter of the party inside comfortably dull. She knew they’d have to go in at some point, to face Ruby and Weiss and deal with whatever party games they were forced to play, but for now, they could enjoy the peace and sunshine. For just these few minutes, it was only them.

“Yang?”

“Yeah?”

“Do _you_ think we’re ready?”

Yang’s brows quirked at the question as she swallowed her last bite of crackers. “Well,” she said slowly, “I don’t think we would’ve gone through it if we weren’t.”

Despite her anxiety, Blake smiled. “Oh, I know. It’s just… Seeing them, in there… it’s different. Like... it wasn’t real before. But seeing them… I’m starting to see it now.”

“I know what you mean.” Yang’s smile was gentle. “It’s easy to envision it one way, but seeing it in person _really_ makes you nervous about it. I mean, when Nora said that thing about her boobs--”

Blake laughed, which Yang had seemed to be going for. Her smile brightened. “But like Ren was saying… we’re a team. And as a team, we can handle whatever life throws at us. Even if our baby acts like a little Ursa sometimes, it’s something I _know_ we can manage. Even on our hardest days, there’ll always be love. That’ll get us through.”

“Yeah.” Blake’s mouth had gone dry, but she leaned in anyway, brushing a kiss against Yang’s lips. “There’ll always be love.”

With a quick glance at CFVY, Blake slipped a hand onto Yang’s stomach. For now, her abs were still tight and sculpted. There was no sign of life underneath them, though she knew that would change. They’d listened to the heartbeat at their first appointment, that strange new sound that would soon bring a different kind of purpose to their lives. 

For the brief time they’d been able to hear it, Blake could almost see the future. With the sound of that heartbeat in her ears, she could envision Yang months from now, sweaty and exhausted, bringing their child into the world. She could imagine holding this child-- _their_ child-- in their arms, rocking them to sleep, reading them books, watching them grow...

But for now, Yang’s stomach kept the truth hidden. For now, their baby was little more than a new thought. For now, it was a secret for them alone.

“We should probably go in,” Blake finally said, dragging her hand away from that growing life. “Be good guests, or whatever.”

“So overrated,” Yang said, with a sigh, pushing her chair back. “At least we can take notes of what we _don’t_ want Weiss to do, right?”

“Right.” Blake laughed. Yang gave her another kiss, then led her back into the house, and they readied themselves against the excitement and bubbly happiness that the baby shower would bring. Soon, that same happiness would be theirs. Still holding her hand, Yang looked back at her, her smile open and bright.

Scratch that.

It already was.


End file.
